Jf^ 


A   JOURNEY    TO    THE    ROCKY 
MOUNTAINS   IN  THE  YEAR   1839 


'^^.   ^.  ^^^^j^..::'^ 


A  JOURNEY  TO  THE  ROCKY 

MOUNTAINS  IN  THE 

YEAR  1839 

By  F.  A.  WISLIZENUS,  M.  D. 

Translated  from  the  German,  with  a  sketch  of  the  author's 
life,  by  Frederick  A.  Wislizenus,  Esq. 


SAINT    LOUIS 

MISSOURI  HISTORICAL  SOCIETY 

1912 


Edition  limited  to  five  hundred  copies 
of  which  this  is 

No.  />  cJ 


Press  of 

NIXON-JONES  PRINTING  COMPANY 

215  Pine  Street,  Saint  Louis 


— 3— 


CONTENTS 


'T- 

4 


CD 


Portrait  of  Dr.  Wislizenus  -  -  -  Facing  Title 
Sketch  of  the  Life  of  Dr.  WisHzenus  -  -  Page  5 
Original  Title  Page 15 

A  Journey  to  the  Rocky  Mountains 

in  the  Year  1839 
Chapter 

I.     A    Geographical    and  Historical   Survey  17 

II.     The  Departure — The  Caravan  -         -  26 

15  III.     Journey   to    the    Kanzas    River  —  The 

*»— 

ES  Kanzas  Indians        -         -         -         -  31 

as         IV.     Journey  from  the  Kanzas  to  the  Platte — 
g  The  Elk-The  Antelope      -        -  36 

V.     Journey  Along  the  Platte  to  the  South  Fork  42 

VI.     The  Buffalo 46 

VII.     The  Sioux — Passage  of  the  South    Fork  54 

VIII.     Journey  up  the  North   Fork — The  Prai- 
rie Dog — Fort  Laramie        -        -  61 
IX.     Journey  Over  the  Black  Hills  — Crossing 

the  North  Fork       -         -         -         -  71 

X.     Journey  Along  the  Sweet  Waters— The 

Wind  River  Mountains         -         -  76 


cr 


2SiM'79 


— 4- 


Chapter 
XI.     The  Yearly  Rendezvous         -         -  Page 

XII.     The   Crossing  of   the   Mountains — The 
Grizzly  Bear        -         -         .         - 

XIII.  The  Beer  Spring — Journey  to  Fort  Hall 

XIV.  The  Columbia    River  —  The   Hudson's 

Bay  Company  -         -         .         . 

XV.     Beginning   the    Return   Journey  —  The 

Beaver 

XVI.     The  Journey  from  Beer  Spring  to  Fort 

Crocket 

XVII.     Journey  from  Fort  Crocket  to  the  South 

Fork 

XVIII.     Return  to  the  Boundary  of  Missouri 

XIX.     The  Indians 

Postscript 


Map 


83 

92 
99 

(06 

116 

124 

131 
139 
148 
161 
At  End  of  Book 


SKETCH   OF   THE  LIFE   OF 
DR.   VSriSLIZENUS 


By  Frederick  A.  W^islizenus,  Esq. 


A-lDOLPH  WISLIZENUS  was  born  May 
I     21,    1810,   at  Koenigsee,  in  Schwarz- 
I     burg-Rudolstadt,  a  German  principal- 
I     ity   of  duodecimo   proportions,   which 
\\      y)\     s^'l^  exists  as  a  sovereign,  though  hum- 
L1_jbC— i-l     ble  member  of  the  German  Empire. 

His  father  was  a  pastor  in  the  Evangehcal  State 
Church.  Both  parents  died  of  the  epidemics  that 
followed  in  the  train  of  the  retreat  from  Moscow, 
leaving  three  children  of  tender  years,  of  whom 
Adolph  was  the  youngest.  The  mother's  brother,  Dr. 
Hoffman,  a  young  man  just  entering  on  his  juristic 
career,  thought  it  his  duty  to  take  charge  of  the 
orphans,  in  which  view  his  bethrothed  heartily  con- 
curred. The  couple  never  had  children,  save  these 
three  orphans,  who  became  theirs  in  letter  and  spirit 
at  the  marriage.    They  cared  for  the  children  in  their 


—  6  — 

youth,  and  loved  them  through  Hfe  as  their  own.  In 
return,  these  children,  even  when  themselves  nearing 
death,  spoke  of  "uncle"  and  "aunt"  with  the  rever- 
ence and  affection  attached  by  those  who  remember 
their  parents  according  to  the  flesh  to  the  name  of 
"father"  and  of  "mother." 

Adolph  prepared  for  the  University  at  the  Gym- 
nasium at  Rudolstadt,  the  capital  of  the  principality. 
He  was  originally  intended  for  the  ministry,  like  his 
father.  Fragments  of  the  Hebrew  acquired  at  the 
Gymnasium  clung  to  him  through  life.  But  his  bent 
was  for  the  natural  sciences,  and  he  entered  the 
neighboring  University  of  Jena  as  a  medical  student. 
He  studied  successively  at  Goettingen  and  Tuebingen, 
till  he  fled  for  his  life  from  Germany. 

Those  were  probably  the  darkest  days  in  Germany 
of  the  reaction  which  sought  to  extinguish  the  last 
spark  of  the  outburst  of  that  spirit  of  liberty  and 
national  unity  which  inspired  throughout  Germany 
the  revolt  against  Napoleon's  oppression  in  1813. 
Nowhere  was  there  a  trace  of  popular  government. 
Kings  and  scores  of  Kinglets  exercised  unquestioned 
arbitrary  power.  The  apathetic  masses  uttered  no 
protest.  But  among  the  educated  classes  not  a  few 
were  filled  with  hot  indignation,  and  some  were  ready 
to  stake  their  lives  in  an  effort  for  the  liberation  and 
unification  of  Germany.  Many  students  at  German 
universities  belonged  to  the  latter  class.  Among 
them  Wislizenus  took  a  decided  stand,  repeatedly 
representing  his  university  at  secret  general  councils. 


—  7  — 

The  Holy  Roman  Empire  had  drawn  its  last  gasp 
in  Napoleon's  day.  Germany  thereafter  was  a  loose 
confederation  of  its  sovereigns,  whose  representatives, 
or  ambassadors,  sat  in  permanent  council  (Bundes- 
rath)  at  Frankfort  on  the  Main,  which  might  thus 
be  called  the  capital  of  Germany. 

The  plan  was  conceived  of  seizing  Frankfort, 
chasing  off  the  representatives  of  royalty,  and  thus, 
as  was  hoped,  striking  a  spark  that  would  kindle 
fires  of  revolt  throughout  Germany.  On  the  evening 
of  April  3,  1833,  a  body  of  students  assembled  from 
various  universities — Wislizenus  among  them — less 
than  a  hundred  all  told,  surprised  the  Constables 
Watch  and  the  Main  Watch,  two  massive  military 
buildings  at  either  end  of  Frankfort's  main  street,  die 
Zeile;  disarmed  the  guards,  seized  the  arms  and  muni- 
tions; rung  the  alarm  bells,  and  summoned  the  citizens 
to  rise.  Only  a  handful  joined  them.  Soldiers  were 
rushed  up,  and  in  a  few  hours  all  was  over. 

The  scheme  seems  fantastic,  but  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  older  heads  had  given  it  sanction;  that 
the  organization  had  ramifications  throughout  Ger- 
many; that  the  plan  involved  action  at  other  places, 
of  which  no  account  can  here  be  given.  But  grant- 
ing the  plan  of  these  young  men  to  have  been  chi- 
merical, it  still  is  true  that  they  risked  not  only  their 
future  career  but  life  itself  under  no  other  inspiration 
than  love  of  liberty  and  of  Fatherland.  Such  mo- 
tives dignify  failure.  The  student  attack  at  Frank- 
fort in  1833  was  a  logical  forerunner  of  the  popular 


uprising  of  1848.  Wislizenus  may  have  smiled  in 
later  years  at  his  youthful  dreams,  but  he  never  grew 
to  be  ashamed  of  them.  Many  years  after,  when 
improvising  at  the  piano  at  twilight,  as  he  loved  to 
do,  he  would  occasionally  break  into  a  stirring  song, 
and  tell  the  inquiring  listener  with  a  smile  that  did 
not  wholly  conceal  pride:  "That's  one  of  our  songs 
in  1833!" 

Some  of  the  students  were  caught.  Several  of  them 
were  condemned  to  death,  though  none  were  executed. 
Several,  however,  went  mad  in  confinement,  and 
others  were  so  crushed  by  dungeon  life  that  they  never 
recovered.  Yet  most  of  the  students  escaped  through 
the  aid  of  sympathizing  friends,  of  whom  there  was 
no  lack.  Wislizenus  used  a  pass  in  the  name  of 
Hoefling.  The  trying  moments  of  his  flight  were 
when  he  couldn't  recall  his  assumed  name  on  being 
suddenly  roused  from  sleep  by  an  official;  and  again 
when  he  had  to  leave  the  coach  abruptly,  as  the  yellow 
dye,  applied  to  make  him  resemble  the  Hoefling  de- 
scribed in  the  pass,  ran  down  from  his  jet  black  hair. 

He  reached  Strassburg  in  safety,  and  thence  went 
to  the  University  of  Zurich,  where  several  of  his 
German  professors,  such  as  Schoenlein  and  Oken, 
honored  for  their  deep  learning,  and  endeared  to 
him  by  their  political  sympathies,  had  preceded  hlm. 
At  Zurich  he  took  his  degree  as  doctor  of  medicine, 
and,  after  spending  some  time  in  Paris  hospitals, 
came  to  New  York  In  1835. 


—  9  — 

In  1836  he  moved  to  Mascoutah,  St.  Clair  County, 
Illinois,  not  far  from  St.  Louis,  where  he  found 
much  congenial  company.  German  University  men 
who  were  political  refugees,  like  himself,  with  their 
families  and  relatives,  were  settling  in  St.  Clair  Coun- 
ty in  large  numbers.  Their  inexperience  in  the  un- 
wonted task  of  cultivating  the  soil  led  to  their  being 
called  by  their  less  educated  neighbors,  somewhat 
jeeringly,  ''Die  Lateiner"  (the  Latins).  But  as  a 
class  they  succeeded,  and  have  left  their  impress  to 
this  day  on  the  community.  Here  Dr.  Wislizenus 
practiced  as  a  country  physician  for  three  years;  and 
then  used  his  modest  savings  for  the  trip  to  the  Rocky 
Mountains  of  which  he  wrote  in  German  the  sketches 
which  follow  in  translation. 

Upon  his  return  he  entered  into  partnership  with 
Dr.  George  Engelmann  for  the  practice  of  medicine 
in  St.  Louis.  There  subsisted  between  these  two  men, 
till  death  parted  their  company,  a  friendship  of  which 
only  strong  characters  are  capable.  Wislizenus  de- 
voted himself  to  his  practice  till  1846,  when  he 
could  not  resist  the  longing  for  further  explorations. 
He  joined  the  expedition  of  a  merchant  (Speyer)  to 
Santa  Fe.  This  time  he  was  better  provided  than 
on  his  excursion  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  had 
the  help  of  a  servant;  and  in  his  wagon  he  not  only 
carried  an  adequate  scientific  outfit,  but  also  brought 
back  valuable  collections.  From  Santa  Fe  he  pushed 
on  to  Chihuahua.  By  this  time  the  war  between  the 
United  States  and  Mexico  was  on  in  earnest.    Wish- 


—  10  — 


zenus  was  attacked  by  a  mob  in  his  hotel,  and  rescued 
by  the  Governor  of  the  State,  who  sent  him  with 
some  other  Americans  to  Cosihuiriachi,  a  little  town 
in  the  mountains  about  ninety  miles  west  of  Chihua- 
hua. He  was  permitted,  on  parole,  to  wander  during 
the  day  not  more  than  two  leagues  from  the  town. 
During  this  enforced  stay  he  was  indefatigable  in 
gathering  scientific  information  on  various  topics. 
After  six  months,  American  victories  brought  liberty 
to  the  prisoners  at  Cosihuiriachi.  They  left  for  Chi« 
huahua — no  one  saying  them  nay — and  there  found 
Doniphan's  Missouri  Regiment.  Wislizenus  received 
an  appointment  as  surgeon,  and  on  the  journey  toward 
home  made  such  scientific  investigations  as  his  medi- 
cal duties  permitted. 

Among  those  who  were  interested  in  his  trip  was 
Senator  Benton  of  Missouri.  At  his  instance  the 
United  States  Senate  printed  five  thousand  copies  of 
Wislizenus'  journal,  together  with  accompanying 
tables  and  maps.  The  scientific  interest  of  the  publi- 
cation is  further  enhanced  by  Dr.  Engelmann's  report 
on  the  flora  of  the  trip,  based  on  specimens  collected 
by  Dr.  Wislizenus.  A  great  part  of  the  trip  had 
been  through  territory  which  had  no  prior  scientific 
exploration.  Much  of  the  scientific  investigations  re- 
ported in  this  "Tour  through  Northern  Mexico"  has 
been  superseded  by  later  work  in  detail ;  but  such  sub- 
sequent work  has  served  to  emphasize  the  reliability 
of  this  first  observer.     Humboldt  speaks  apprecia- 


—  II  — 

tively  of  the  value  of  this  publication  in  his  "Views 
of  Nature." 

Early  in  1848  Dr.  Wislizenus  went  to  Washington, 
supposably  in  connection  with  the  publication  of  his 
book,  and  made  a  prolonged  stay  there.  With  much 
leisure  on  his  hands,  he  not  only  frequented  scientific 
circles,  but  also  participated  in  social  life.  He  was 
a  constant  visitor  at  the  house  of  George  P.  Marsh, 
then  member  of  the  House  of  Representatives  from 
Vermont;  and  paid  court,  unsuccessful  at  the  time, 
to  Mrs.  Marsh's  sister,  Lucy  Crane.  He  returned  to 
St.  Louis  in  time  to  discharge  the  full  duty  of  a 
physician  in  the  terrible  cholera  epidemic  of  that 
year. 

In  the  spring  of  1850  Dr.  Wislizenus  left  St.  Louis 
on  another  trip.  This  time  he  did  not  go  to  the 
west;  nor  were  scientific  interests  uppermost  In  his 
mind. 

Upon  the  success  of  the  Whigs  in  the  election  of 
1848,  Mr.  Marsh  had  been  appointed  our  Minister 
to  Turkey.  After  a  leisurely  trip  through  Europe, 
he  had  arrived  at  Constantinople  with  his  wife  and 
his  sister-in-law  in  February,  1850.  There  Dr.  Wis- 
lizenus presented  himself  and  was  successful  in  his 
wooing.  His  marriage  to  Lucy  Crane  took  place  at 
the  Embassy  In  Constantinople  on  July  23,  1850. 

The  wedding  journey  went  up  the  Danube,  and 
led  to  Wislizenus'  old  home  In  Germany,  Schwarz- 
burg-Rudolstadt ;  for  his  gracious  native  prince  had 
courteously    sent    him    unofficial    information    that 


—  12  — 

nothing  would  stand  in  the  way  of  his  visit  to  the 
country  of  his  birth. 

After  the  birth  of  his  first  child,  Wislizenus  left 
his  wife  with  relatives  in  New  England,  and  went 
to  California,  via  Panama,  with  a  view  to  possible 
settlement  there.  He  was  much  impressed  with  the 
great  future  of  the  country,  prophesying  that  it 
would  be  famous  for  fruit  long  after  gold  was  ex- 
hausted ;  but  whatever  temptations  he  might  have  felt 
as  a  bachelor,  he  saw  that  the  country  in  its  then 
condition  was  not  a  desirable  home  for  a  civilized 
family.  He  accordingly  returned  east,  and  brought 
his  family  to  St.  Louis  in  the  spring  of  1852.  His 
days  of  wandering  were  over.  For  the  rest  of  his 
life  he  never  went  more  than  a  hundred  miles  from 
St.  Louis,  and  that  only  for  a  few  days  at  any  one 
time. 

But  his  interest  in  matters  of  natural  science  did 
not  end  with  his  travels.  He  was  one  of  the  charter 
members  of  the  Academy  of  Science  of  St.  Louis; 
regular  in  attendance  as  long  as  health  permitted; 
and  a  frequent  contributor  of  articles  published  in 
its  "Transactions." 

He  was  also  a  member  of  the  Missouri  Historical 
Society,  being  one  of  the  signers  of  the  call  for  the 
meeting  at  which  the  Society  was  organized  in  1866. 

He  became  much  interested  in  the  subject  of  atmos- 
pheric electricity.  With  a  sensitive  instrument  he 
tested  the  air  six  times  each  day  for  the  kind  and 
amount  of  its  electricity,  supplementing  this  work  by 


—  13  — 

the  usual  meteorological  observations  as  to  tempera- 
ture, moisture,  and  wind.  This  he  continued  till 
failing  eyesight  made  it  impossible.  Little  was  being 
done  in  that  direction  at  the  time;  and  his  results, 
showing  a  diurnal,  annual,  and  even  cyclic  periodicity, 
have  acknowledged  scientific  value. 

The  failing  eyesight  which  put  a  stop  to  his  elec- 
trical observations  and  also  to  his  medical  practice, 
culminated  in  a  total  blindness,  covering  several 
years  preceding  his  death.  Fortunately  there  was 
no  lack  of  willing  readers  to  feed  his  active  mind. 
He  passed  away  peacefully  September  23,  1889,  with 
wife  and  children  around  him. 


(Sin    2lu0fJug 


n  n  rt)   b  (  K 


Mtlß^U'^^Mr^tu 


im      2al>r(      162«« 


iF.  ^  Wi^li$enuM^  JW*  39. 


.©< 


Si-  S-oui's,  iHo.* 

18  4  0. 


To  sit  on  rocks,  to  muse  o^ er  flood  and  fell, 
To  slowly  trace  theforesVs  shady  scene, 
Where  things,  that  own  not  man's  dominion,  dwell, 
And  mortal  foot  hath  ne'er,  or  rarely  been; 
To  climb  the  trackless  mountain  all  unseen. 
With  the  wild  flock,  that  never  needs  a  fold. 
Alone  o'er  steeps  and  foaming  falls  to  lean; 
This  is  not  solitude,  't  is  but  to  hold 

Converse  with  Nature's  charms,  and  view  her  stores  unroll* d. 
CHILDE  HAROLD'S  PILGRIMAGE. 


^B^^ 


m 


A  JOURNEY  TO   THE  ROCKY 
MOUNTAINS   IN    1839 


CH  APTERj     ONE 


A  GEOGRAPHICAL  AND 

HISTORICAL 

SURVEY 


T 


n 


^.S 


HE  whole  territory  of  the  United  States 
of  North  America  from  the  Atlantic 
to  the  Pacific  ocean  is  divisible  intO'  two 
great  sections,  the  eastern  and  the  west- 
ern. The  eastern,  which  we  may  also 
call  the  cultivated  part  of  the  United 
States,  is  bounded  on  the  east  by  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
on  the  south  by  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  on  the  north  by 
the  British  Possessions  in  North  America,  and  on  the 
west  by  a  line  coinciding  with  civilization's  ceaseless 
westward  progress,  stretching  out  from  year  to  year, 
a  line  which  I  would  call  the  boundary  of  civilization 
of  the  United  States.     This  line  now  about  corre- 


—  I«  — 
Geographical  sDonds  With  thc  wcstem  boundary  of  the  territories, 

and  .  , 

Historical      WiscoHSin  and  Iowa,  and  of  the  states,  Missouri, 

Surveys  _  ' 

Arkansas  and  Louisiana.  The  other,  the  western 
section  of  the  United  States,  extends  from  this  boun- 
dary of  cIvIHzation  to  the  coasts  of  the  Pacific.  On 
the  south,  merely  to  give  general  indications,  it  is  sep- 
arated from  Texas  by  the  Sabine  River,  and  from 
Mexico  by  a  line  running  along  the  south  bank  of  the 
Arkansas  In  its  upper  course  to  Its  source  in  latitude 
42°,  and  with  that  parallel  westward  to  the  Pacific 
ocean.  Toward  the  north  this  section  bounds  on  thc 
British  Possessions.  But  the  northern  boundary  has 
been  fixed  by  the  treaties  of  1 8 1 8  with  England,  only 
so  far  as  concerns  the  part  east  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, as  running  on  the  49th  parallel  from  the  Lake 
of  the  Woods  westwardly  to  the  Rockies.  Beyond 
these  mountains  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  the  United  States 
claim  to  the  Russian  Possessions  in  latitude  54°  10' 
north  by  reason  of  discoveries  and  ancient  treaties. 
By  provisional  arrangement,  England  shares  with  us 
the  possession  of  this  region,  leaving  the  dispute  un- 
settled. The  western  portion  of  the  United  States, 
which  alone  concerns  us  here,  is  divided  into  terri- 
tories :  on  this  side  of  the  Rockies  we  have  the  North- 
west Territory,  Missouri  Territory,  Arkansas  Terri- 
tory; while  all  beyond  to  the  Pacific  Ocean  is  covered 
by  the  general  name  of  Oregon  Territory.  Only 
along  the  border  of  this  western  section,  which  in 
circumference  and  area  is  equal  to  the  eastern  sec- 
tion, if  not  greater  than  it,  has  civilization  struck  any 


—  19  — 

roots.     That  is  to  say,  along  the  boundary  of  civili-  Geographical 
zation  live  various  peaceful  Indian  tribes  that  have  ||i^*°'jj,=^' 
in  part  accommodated  themselves  to  agriculture,  and 
on  the  other  side,  on  the  Columbia  River,  near  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  several,  as  yet  quite  unimportant  set- 
tlements have  been  made  by  Americans  and  English- 
men.    The  area  between  these  extremes  as  yet  no 
plow  has  touched;  no  homely  roof  of  the  settler  in- 
vites the  traveler  to  rest.     The  roving  Indian  alone 
here  puts  up  his  portable  tent,  and  moves  daily  on 
with  his  faithful  companion,  the  buffalo,  who,  like 
himself,  retreats  before  the  "pale  faces."    The  char- 
acter of  the  country  favors  the  hunter's  life  of  these 
savage  bands,  and  interposes  great  obstacles  to  the 
advance  of  the  settler.     For  this  enormous  stretch  of 
country  is  really  only  one  huge  prairie,  rolling  on  in 
wave-like  hills  and  broad  plateaus,   plentifully  tra- 
versed, it  is  true,  by  brooks  and  rivers,  but  so  scantily 
provided  with  wood,  that  even  the  mere  traveler  can- 
not always  find  the  necessary  firewood,  but  must  take 
dried  buffalo  dung  as  an  inadequate  substitute.   From 
north  to  south  this  prairie  is  crossed  by  the  lofty 
mountain  chain  which  traverses  all  western  America 
in  the  direction  just  mentioned,  bearing  various  names 
in  the  different  countries  it  crosses,   but  known   in 
North  America  under  the  general  name  of   Rocky 
Mountains,  and  in  South  America  as  the  Andes.  Out 
of  these  mountains,  whose  peaks  are  covered  with 
everlasting  ice  and  snow,    issue   the   streams  which 
traverse  this  wilderness,   and  send  their  waters  to 


—  20  — 

Geoeraphicai  either  ocean,  the  Atlantic  and  the  Pacific.  So,  in  the 
Historical  noFtheast  of  this  region  arises  the  Missouri  with  its 
tributaries,  the  Yellowstone  and  the  Platte;  in  the 
southeast  the  Green  River  (Colorado  of  the  West), 
which  empties  into  the  Gulf  of  Cahfornia.  Toward 
the  west  the  Columbia  has  its  source,  discharging 
itself  into  the  Pacific  Ocean,  affording  incalculable 
advantages  for  commerce.  This  short  geographical 
survey  makes  evident  the  importance  of  the  region 
in  commercial  aspects.  If  we  further  consider  that 
the  country  abounds  in  beavers,  and  that  trading  with 
the  Indians  is  a  source  of  great  profit,  it  need  not 
surprise  us  that  in  spite  of  all  obstacles  which 
ignorance  of  the  country,  hostile  Indians,  difläculties 
of  transportation,  hunger  and  thirst  oppose  to  a  jour- 
ney into  this  region,  an  enterprising  people,  such  as 
are  the  Americans,  have  turned  their  attention  from 
an  early  date  in  this  direction,  and  have  known  how 
to  conquer  all  difficulties  with  persevering  courage. 

The  first  trips  of  discovery  to  this  Far  West  are  so 
closely  connected  with  the  history  of  the  North 
American  fur  trade,  that  it  becomes  necessary  to  refer 
to  it  briefly.  Even  in  former  centuries,  when  the 
eastern  coast  of  North  America  first  began  to  be  peo- 
pled, and  when  the  country  beyond  the  Alleghenies 
abounded  in  Indians  and  buffalo,  fur  trading  and 
bartering  with  the  Indians  proved  a  veritable  gold 
mine.  The  Canadians,  at  that  time  under  French 
rule,  especially  distinguished  themselves  in  this  kind 
of  commerce.     The    Canadian    fur   traders   boldly 


—  21  — ' 


pushed  into  and  penetrated  a  wilderness  into  which  no  Geographical 
European  had  theretofore  set  foot.  Their  buoyant  ^Jrv°/jj^^' 
French  temperament  enabled  them  to  make  them- 
selves popular  even  among  wild  Indian  tribes;  and  so 
they  became  pioneers  of  civilization.  Among  the 
trading  companies  organized  for  this  purpose  two  are 
especially  prominent,  their  history  running  down  to 
our  day,  namely:  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  char- 
tered by  Charles  II  in  1670,  whose  headquarters  were 
then  in  New  York,  and  the  North  West  Company,  es- 
tablished at  Montreal  in  1783.  These  two  rival  com- 
panies carried  on  their  trade  chiefly  on  the  Great 
Lakes,  and  later  descended  from  there  into  the  Mis- 
sissippi Valley.  The  country  further  west  was  as  yet 
unknown.  The  first  fragmentary  information  about 
this  country  we  find  in  the  travels  of  Jonathan  Carver 
of  Connecticut,  who,  about  the  year  1763,  was  among 
the  Indians  on  the  Upper  Mississippi.  He  mentions  a 
River  Oregon  or  the  River  of  the  West  (Columbia). 
This  information  he  probably  received  through  In- 
dians. The  word  "Oregon"  seems  to  date  from  this, 
its  first  mention.  The  first  traveler  who  reached  the 
Pacific  Coast  by  going  westward  was  Sir  Alexander 
Mackenzie,  a  former  British  officer.  He  crossed  the 
Rocky  Mountains  for  the  first  time  in  1793,  at  52° 
20'  48"  north  latitude,  and  reached  the  Pacific  Ocean 
in  what  is  now  Caledonia,  between  latitude  52°  and 
55°,  and  consequently  north  of  the  Columbia  River. 
Soon  thereafter  the  North  West  Company  erected, 
on  the  Pacific  Coast,  in  the  region  mentioned,  two 


—  22  — 

Geographical  trading  posts.     In  the  year  1803  the  Government  of 

and  ....  f 

Historical  (he  United  States,  recognizing  the  importance  or 
these  western  possessions,  sent  an  expedition  under 
Lewis  and  Clark  across  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  ex- 
plore this  country,  and  to  take  possession  thereof  in 
the  name  of  the  United  States.  Lewis  and  Clark 
ascended  the  Missouri  to  its  sources;  then,  battling 
with  many  hardships,  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains; 
reached  on  the  other  side  the  sources  of  the  Columbia, 
and  finally — following  that  river — the  Pacific.  With 
the  change  In  political  affairs  in  North  America,  the 
two  chief  trading  companies,  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany and  the  North  West  Company,  had  passed  Into 
the  hands  of  the  Enghsh,  and  steadily  maintained 
their  preponderance.  But  formidable  opposition 
against  them  arose  in  18 10  at  New  York  in  the  Pa- 
cific Fur  Company,  whose  financial  and  intellectual 
head  was  John  Jacob  Astor,  a  German  by  birth.  A 
detailed  account  of  this  undertaking,  so  tremendous 
for  a  private  citizen.  Is  found  in  Washington  Irvlng's 
classic,  "Astoria."  For  present  purposes  it  is  enough 
to  know  that  the  undertaking  consisted  of  two  con- 
temporaneous expeditions,  one  by  sea  and  one  by  land. 
The  latter  was  entrusted  to  Wilson  P.  Hunt  of  New 
Jersey  (now  postmaster  at  St.  Louis).  Hunt  ascended 
the  Missouri  to  the  village  of  the  Arlckaras,  and 
thence  continued  overland  in  southwesterly  direction. 
He  reached  the  Rockies  at  the  northwest  corner  of 
the  Wind  River  Mountains,  crossed  the  principal 
range,  found  on  the  further  side  the  southern  main 


—  23  — 
source  of  the  Columbia,  the  Snake  River,  and  after  Geographical 

'  '  and 

Incredible  sufterlngs,  to  which  several  of  the  party  suw°e'j^^*' 
succumbed,  reached  the  Columbia  and  the  Pacific 
Ocean.  At  the  same  time  a  ship  had  been  sent  around 
Cape  Horn  to  the  Columbia  River.  It  had  arrived 
there,  and  a  trading  fort  (Astoria)  had  been  built 
near  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  River.  So  far,  the 
undertaking  was  crowned  with  success.  But  several 
mishaps,  especially  the  faithlessness  of  one  agent, 
wrecked  everything.  In  1812  the  fort  was  treacher- 
ously sold  by  the  agent  to  the  North  West  Company, 
and  shortly  after,  the  English,  then  at  war  with  the 
United  States,  took  military  possession.  In  18 18  the 
fort  was  formally  surrendered  to  the  United  States, 
but  the  North  West  Company  remained  In  the  actual 
occupation  of  the  country.  Its  only  rival  now  was 
the  Hudson's  Bay  Company.  For  a  time  these  two 
companies  maintained  a  bloody  feud,  till  finally.  In 
1 82 1,  they  amalgamated  Into  one  trading  company 
under  the  valuable  franchises  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company.  The  new  company  has  now  drawn  to 
Itself  all  the  trade  on  the  Columbia  and  has  actually 
expelled  the  United  States  from  this  part  of  its  ter- 
ritory. 

Such  results  were  not  encouraging  for  the  people  of 
the  United  States;  but  their  spirit  of  enterprise  soon 
showed  Itself  afresh.  In  1820  a  new  expedition, 
under  Major  Long,  was  sent  by  the  Government  of 
the  United  States  up  the  Missouri  River  to  explore 
the  country.     Private  undertakings  also  were  soon 


—  24  — 

Geographical  Organized.  So  in  1822,  General  Ashley  of  Missouri 
Hj^°"<=ai  and  Mr.  Henry  established  a  trading  post  on  the 
Yellowstone,  and  made  trips  through  the  country  on 
this  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Green  River. 
Beaver  trapping  promised  most  profit.  A  peculiar 
class  of  men,  the  trappers,  who  traversed  the  country 
in  all  directions,  were  developed  by  this  business.  Out 
of  this  school  arose  leaders  for  subsequent  enterprises, 
such  as  Smith,  Fitzpatrick,  Bridger,  Robert  Camp- 
bell, William  Sublette,  etc.,  names  well  known  to 
every  mountaineer. 

In  1830  two  companies  organized  in  St.  Louis  be- 
came active:  the  American  Fur  Company,  which  had 
been  organized  as  far  back  as  1809,  but  had  become 
dormant,  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  Fur  Company, 
founded  by  Sublette  and  Campbell.  In  1832,  two 
new  rivals  entered  the  field,  viz. :  Captain  Bonneville, 
on  behalf  of  a  company  in  New  York,  and  Captain 
Wyeth,  from  Boston.  These  four  parties  crossed 
the  country  on  either  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  in 
every  direction,  save  that  the  all-powerful  Hudson's 
Bay  Company  successfully  excluded  them  from  the 
Columbia  River.  Washington  Irving  has  faithfully 
described  in  his  "Rocky  Mountains"  the  manner  in 
which  competition  was  carried  on  by  these  jealous 
rivals.  Captains  Wyeth  and  Bonneville  disappeared 
from  the  scene  after  a  few  years,  because  their  com- 
panies had  sustained  losses  in  the  enterprise.  The 
American  and  the  Rocky  Mountain  Companies  first 
came  to  a  friendly  agreement,  whereunder  each  oc- 


—  25  — 

cupled  a  certain  district  for  trading  and  trapping,  and  Geographical 
afterwards  they  amalgamated  into  a  single  company,  sJ?l°e^^^' 
which  was  carried  on  under  the  firm  name  of  Chou- 
teau, Pratte  &  Co.  Several  small  companies  were 
formed  still  later,  which  erected  trading  forts  on  the 
Missouri,  on  the  North  and  South  Platte,  on  the  Ar- 
kansas and  on  the  Green  River;  but  none  of  them  at- 
tained any  marked  preponderance. 

While  the  knowledge  of  the  country  in  general 
was  much  enlarged  by  the  trading  trips  above  de- 
scribed, much  was  also  done  in  a  scientific  direction 
by  men  who  had  joined  such  expeditions  on  account 
of  devotion  to  the  natural  sciences.  So  the  well 
known  naturalist,  NVittal,  and  the  botanist,  Bradbury, 
accompanied  Hunt's  Expedition  to  the  point  where  It 
left  the  Missouri.  In  Long's  Expedition  there  was 
Say,  who  has  rendered  such  services  to  zoology.  The 
Prince  of  Neuwied,  too,  so  favorably  known  for  his 
zeal  for  the  natural  sciences,  undertook  about  this 
time  a  scientific  trip  up  the  Missouri.  Finally,  Cap- 
tain Wyeth  was  accompanied  by  Nuttal  and  Towns- 
hend.  Though  these  men  accomplished  much,  often 
at  great  sacrifices,  very  much  more  remains  to  be 
done;  for  the  country  is  rich  in  treasures  for  every 
branch  of  the  natural  sciences,  and  the  difficulties  and 
dangers  of  the  journey  alone  have  as  yet  prevented 
their  exploitation. 


s^^ 


IS^.^ 


Te 


CHAPTERo     TWO 

THE  DEPARTURE-THE  CARAVAN 

SnOME  human  beings,  like  birds  of  pas- 
sage, are  ill  at  ease  when  kept  for  a 
considerable  length  of  time  under  the 
same  sky.  They  consider  all  Nature 
one  great  family;  the  whole  world  their 
home.  I  will  not  decide  whether  or 
not  I  belong  to  this  class;  but  I  do  know  that  from 
time  to  time  an  irresistible  fever  for  wandering  seizes 
me,  and  that  I  find  no  better  remedy  against  the 
moods  and  crochets  of  hum-drum  daily  life  than 
change  of  place  and  of  air. 

Chained  for  several  years  to  an  exacting  medical 
practice,  in  which  I  had  tasted  to  the  full  the  sorrows 
and  pleasures  of  the  active  physician,  I  felt  the  need 
of  mental  and  physical  recreation.  An  excursion  to 
the  cultivated  part  of  the  United  States,  through  the 
greater  part  of  which  I  had  already  traveled,  suited 
neither  my  means  nor  my  inclinations.  The  far 
West,  with  its  wilderness  and  its  aboriginals,  was  far 
more  to  my  liking.     Apart  from  the  selfish  purpose 


—  27  — 

of  personal  enjoyment,  I  had  another  in  view;  per-  The        _ 
haps  I  might  contribute  something,  in  proportion  to  The  caravan 
my  limited  knowledge  in  natural  sciences  and  my  nar- 
row means,  toward  a  better  understanding    of    this 
region,  where  as  yet  our  information    in    many  re- 
spects partakes  of  the  fabulous. 

About  the  middle  of  April,  1839,  I  left  St.  Louis 
with  this  purpose.  I  went  up  the  Missouri  on  the 
steamboat  St.  Peters  to  Chouteau's  Landing.  Our 
trip  lasted  six  days,  because  the  water  was  at  a  very 
low  stage;  and  offered  nothing  of  special  interest. 
The  border  village.  West  Port,  is  six  miles  distant 
from  Chouteau's  Landing.  There  I  intended  to  await 
the  departure  of  this  year's  annual  caravan.  The 
village  has  perhaps  thirty  or  forty  houses,  and  is  only 
a  mile  from  the  western  border  of  the  State  of  Mis- 
souri. It  is  the  usual  rendezvous  for  travelers  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  as  is  Independence,  twelve  miles 
distant,  for  those  journeying  to  Santa  Fe.  I  bought 
a  horse  and  a  mule,  the  former  to  ride,  the  latter  for 
my  baggage;  and  made  other  preparations  necessary 
for  my  journey.  On  May  4th  the  different  parties 
who  were  to  join  the  expedition  met  for  their  first 
night  camp  at  Sapling  Grove,  about  eight  miles  from 
West  Port.  The  way  thitherward  goes  through  the 
land  of  the  Shawnees,  peaceable  Indians  who  have 
settled  here.  Some  of  them  own  valuable  farms.  Their 
manner  of  life  shows  a  close  approach  to  that  of  the 
white  man.  Some  of  them  speak  English.  My  first 
day's  journey  began  under  evil  auspices,  for  I  had  not 


—  28  — 

The  _  yet  learned  to  pack  my  mule.  The  usual  way  of  doing 
The  Caravan  jj-  jg  tKis  i  The  baggage  is  divided  into  two  equal 
parts,  each  part  firmly  bound  up,  and  hung  by  loops 
on  either  side  of  the  yoke-shaped  pack  saddle.  The 
whole  is  further  fastened  by  the  so-called  "lash  rope," 
of  stout  buffalo  leather,  which  is  first  wound  around 
the  barrel  of  the  animal,  and  then  in  diamond  shaped 
turns  as  firmly  as  possible  around  the  pack.  My  bag- 
gage weighed  150  to  200  pounds,  a  quite  ordinary 
load  for  a  mule;  but  I  had  not  divided  the  burden 
properly,  so  that  I  had  to  repack  repeatedly  on  the 
road.  It  was  well  toward  evening  when  I  reached 
the  camp,  where  the  others  already  had  arrived.  Our 
caravan  was  small.  It  consisted  of  only  twenty-seven 
persons.  Nine  of  them  were  in  the  service  of  the  Fur 
Company  of  St.  Louis  (Chouteau,  Pratte  &  Co.), 
and  were  to  bring  the  merchandise  to  the  yearly  ren- 
dezvous on  the  Green  River.  Their  leader  was  Mr. 
Harris,  a  mountaineer  without  special  education,  but 
with  five  sound  senses,  that  he  well  loiew  how  to  use. 
All  the  rest  joined  the  expedition  as  individuals. 
Among  them  were  three  missionaries,  two  of  them 
accompanied  by  their  wives,  whom  a  Christian  zeal 
for  converting  the  heathen  urged  to  the  Columbia. 
Some  others  spoke  of  a  permanent  settlement  on  the 
Columbia;  again,  others  intended  to  go  to  California, 
and  so  on.  Almost  all,  however,  were  actuated  by 
some  commercial  motive.  The  majority  of  the  party 
were  Americans;  the  rest  consisted  of  French  Cana- 
dians, a  few  Germans,  and  a  Dane.     The  Fur  Com- 


—  29  — 

pany  transported  its  goods  on  two-wheeled  carts,  of  J^^^^^^^^ 
which  there  were  four,  each  drawn  by  two  mules,  and  The  caravan 
loaded  with  800  to  900  pounds.  The  rest  put  their 
packs  on  mules  or  horses,  of  which  there  were  fifty  to 
sixty  in  the  caravan.  Our  first  camp.  Sapling  Grove, 
was  in  a  little  hickory  wood,  with  fresh  spring  water. 
Our  animals  we  turned  loose  to  graze  in  the  vicinity. 
To  prevent  them  from  straying  far,  either  the  two 
fore  feet,  or  the  forefoot  and  hindfoot  of  one  side 
are  bound  together  with  so-called  "hobbles."  In  order 
that  they  may  easily  be  caught,  they  drag  a  long  rope 
of  buffalo  leather  (trail-rope).  At  night  stakes 
(pickets)  are  driven  into  the  earth  at  some  distance 
from  each  other,  and  the  animals  are  fastened  to  them 
by  ropes.  After  we  had  attended  to  our  animals,  and 
had  eaten  our  supper,  we  sprawled  around  a  fire,  and 
whiled  away  the  evening  with  chatting  and  smoking; 
then  wrapped  ourselves  in  our  woolen  blankets, — the 
only  bed  one  takes  with  one — and  slept  for  the  first 
time  under  our  little  tents,  of  which  we  had  seven. 
At  dawn,  the  leader  rouses  the  camp  with  an  inhar- 
monious: "Get  up!  Get  up!  Get  up!"  Every  one 
rises.  The  first  care  is  for  the  animals.  They  are 
loosed  from  their  pickets  and  allowed  an  hour  for 
grazing.  Meanwhile  we  prepare  our  breakfast,  strike 
our  tents,  and  prepare  for  the  start.  The  animals  are 
driven  in  again,  packed  and  saddled.  We  move  off 
in  corpore.  We  proceed  at  a  moderate  pace,  in  front 
the  leader  with  his  carts,  behind  him  in  line  long 
drawn  out  the  mingled  riders  and  pack  animals.     In 


—  30  — 

The  the  early  days  of  the  journey  we  are  apt  to  lead  the 

The  Caravan  pack  anliTials  by  rope;  later  on,  we  leave  them  free, 
and  drive  them  before  us.  At  first  packing  causes 
novices  much  trouble  on  the  way.  Here  the  towering 
pack  leans  to  one  side ;  there  it  topples  under  the  ani- 
mal's belly.  At  one  time  the  beast  stands  stock  still 
with  its  swaying  load;  at  another  it  rushes  madly  off, 
kicking  out  till  it  is  free  of  its  burden.  But  pauseless, 
like  an  army  over  its  fallen,  the  train  moves  on.  With 
bottled-up  wrath  the  older  men,  with  raging  and 
swearing  the  younger  ones,  gather  up  their  belong- 
ings, load  the  beasts  afresh,  and  trot  after  the  col- 
umn. Toward  noon  a  rest  of  an  hour  or  two  is  made, 
if  a  suitable  camp  can  be  found,  the  chief  requisites 
being  fresh  water,  good  grass,  and  sufficient  wood. 
We  unload  the  beasts  to  let  them  graze,  and  prepare 
a  mid-day  meal.  Then  we  start  off  again,  and  march 
on  till  toward  sunset.  We  set  up  the  tents,  prepare 
our  meal,  lie  around  the  fire,  and  then,  wrapped  in 
our  woolen  blankets,  commit  ourselves  to  our  fate  till 
the  next  morning.  In  this  way  twenty  to  twenty-five 
miles  are  covered  daily.  The  only  food  the  animals 
get  is  grass.  For  ourselves,  we  take  with  us  for  the 
first  week  some  provisions,  such  as  ham,  ship-biscuit, 
tea  and  coffee.  Afterwards,  we  depend  on  hunting. 
Such  are  the  daily  doings  of  the  caravan. 


\^.S 


CHAPTER^    THREE 

JOURNEY  TO  THE  KANZAS  RIVER— 
THE  KANZAS  INDIANS 

InN  the  first  days  our  journey  was  straight 
west.  The  first  day  we  marched  over 
the  broad  Santa  Fe  road,  beaten  out  by 
the  caravans.  Then  leaving  it  to  our 
left  we  took  a  narrow  wagon  road,  es- 
tablished by  former  journeys  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  but  often  so  indistinctly  traced, 
that  our  leader  at  times  lost  it,  and  simply  followed 
the  general  direction.  Our  way  led  through  prairie 
with  many  undulating  hills  of  good  soil.  The  region 
is  watered  with  a  few  brooks  and  rivulets,  along 
whose  banks  there  is  usually  a  narrow  strip  of  decid- 
uous timber.  On  the  prairie  itself  there  is  no  wood. 
Several  times  we  had  to  content  ourselves  with  mud- 
dy standing  water;  but  usually  we  found  pleasant, 
even  romantic  camping  places  on  clear  brooks.  We 
saw  no  large  game  as  yet.  A  few  prairie  chicken  was 
all  that  we  shot.  However,  a  weather-worn  buffalo 
skull  and  the  antlers  of  an  elk,  which  we  found,  re- 


32  — 


Journey  to 
the  Kanzas 
River— 
The Kanzas 
Indians 


minded  us  of  the  time  when  these  denizens  of  the 
wilderness  had  dwelt  here. 

On  the  fifth  day  after  our  start  we  reached  the 
Kanzas,  or,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  Ka  River,  not 
deep,  but  rather  broad  and  swift.  Its  course  is  from 
west  to  east,  and  it  empties  close  by  the  border  of 
the  State  of  Missouri  into  the  river  of  the  same  name. 
We  were  about  a  hundred  miles  above  its  mouth.  To 
cross  us  over  a  canoe  had  been  sent  up  the  river  from 
its  mouth,  but  it  had  not  as  yet  arrived.  So  we 
camped  in  the  meanwhile  on  an  elevation  near  the 
river.  Some  miles  from  us,  on  the  same  side  of  the 
river,  was  a  village  of  the  Kas,  or  Kanzas  Indians; 
across  the  river,  somewhat  farther  off,  were  two  vil- 
lages of  the  same  tribe.  Near  the  first  village  there 
is  a  trading  house,  a  smithy,  and  a  Methodist  mission. 
The  Kas  formerly  lived  forty  miles  to  the  west;  but 
in  1826,  in  pursuance  of  treaties,  the  United  States 
Government  assigned  them  the  district  which  they 
now  inhabit;  and  has  set  apart  for  them  for  twenty 
years  the  annual  sum  of  $3,500.00,  which  is  given 
them  principally  in  kind.  The  whole  tribe  is  said  to 
number  at  present  1,500  souls.  The  attempt  to  civi- 
lize the  Kas  and  lead  them  to  agriculture  as  yet  has 
had  little  success.  The  Government  has  sent  them 
some  mechanics,  has  established  a  sort  of  model  farm, 
and  furnishes  them  yearly  a  number  of  cattle  and 
swine.  But  they  usually  burn  the  fencing  of  the  farm 
in  winter  and  slaughter  the  animals.  In  other  re- 
spects, they  live,  like  the  rest  of  the  Indians,  from 


Indians 


—  33  — 

hunting;  and  as  their  country,  though  containing  some  {^^'j^^^^*°g 
deer,  and  elk,  has  no  buffalo,  they  go  twice  a  year  Th/klnzas 
some  hundreds  of  miles  away  on  a  buffalo  hunt,  and 
bring  the  dried  meat  back  with  them.  A  tendency 
toward  civilization,  on  the  other  hand,  is  indicated 
by  their  permanent  residence  in  villages.  While  all 
wild  Indian  tribes  know  no  other  shelter  than  their 
lodges,  the  Kas  have  already  built  villages  of  perma- 
nent houses,  in  which  they  spend  a  great  part  of  the 
year.  They  thus  form  a  transition  from  the  agricul- 
tural Indians  dwelling  along  the  border  of  the  United 
States  and  the  untamed  hunting  hordes  of  the  Far 
West. 

We  had  scarcely  arrived  at  the  Ka  River  when  the 
Indians  came  to  our  camp ;  but  only  a  few,  for  most 
of  them  were  off  on  a  buffalo  hunt.  Their  clothing 
was  such  as  is  customary  with  Indians.  Some  of  them 
had  only  an  apron  around  the  loins;  but  most  also 
wrapped  themselves  in  a  buffalo  robe  or  woolen 
blanket.  Some  in  addition  wore  leather  leggings. 
Almost  all  wore  moccasins.  The  chief  garment  of 
the  women  is  a  leather  overshirt  reaching  from  breast 
to  knee,  in  addition  to  which  they  usually  wear  draw- 
ers and  mocassins,  with  a  woolen  blanket,  preferably 
of  gaudy  colors.  Like  all  Indians,  they  are  fond  of 
painting  themselves  with  vermilion.  A  red  ring 
around  the  eyes  is  considered  particularly  becoming. 
To  the  dressing  of  the  hair  the  men  give  more  care 
than  the  women.  While  the  latter  simply  part  their 
raven  black  straight  hair,  push  it  back  of  the  ears,  and 


—  34  — 
Journey  to      jef-  [^  hang  dowii  behind,  the  men  seek  to  train  theirs 

tne  Kanzas  o  ' 

The^K^nzas  in  all  possible  ways.  Sometimes  they  shave  away  all 
the  hair  save  a  long  lock  on  top;  again,  they  let  it 
grow  long,  and  plait  it  into  a  braid;  sometimes  they 
shave  the  hair  on  either  side,  and  leave  in  the  middle 
a  helmet-shaped  comb.  The  last  named  style  seems 
especially  in  fashion  with  the  Kas.  Both  sexes  also 
adorn  themselves  with  all  possible  ornaments  of 
beads,  coral,  brassware,  feathers,  ribbons,  gaudy  rags, 
etc.  When  lacking  ornaments,  they  often  daub  the 
head  with  clay.  The  Kas  who  came  to  our  camp  be- 
haved very  peaceably.  They  brought  some  hides,  es- 
pecially tanned  deer  hides,  for  sale,  and  bartered  them 
for  knives  and  other  trifles.  Some  of  them  wanted 
money,  and  offered  the  hides  for  a  dollar  a  piece.  But 
they  cared  most  for  flour  and  bacon,  for  they  were 
starved  out.  At  night,  we  set  guards  for  the  first 
time,  for  although  the  Ka  Indians  have  committed  of 
late  no  hostilities  against  the  whites,  they  do  not 
scruple  to  steal  horses  from  them  when  they  can  do 
it  unpunished.  The  night  was  divided  into  three 
watches.  Two  or  three  men  were  always  on  watch 
together.  As  the  canoe  had  not  arrived  the  next 
morning,  I  made  a  side  trip  to  the  nearest  village. 
The  village  is  on  the  right  of  the  river,  on  an  eleva- 
tion from  which  one  can  enjoy  a  pleasant  and  wide 
view.  From  a  distance  it  is  not  unlike  a  mass  of 
great  mole  hills.  In  the  village  itself  no  living  being 
was  to  be  found.  The  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants 
were  hunting  buffalo.     The   rest   had   gone   to   our 


35  — 


to 
zas 

River — 

anzas 

Indians 


camp.  As  the  houses  have  neither  lock  nor  bar,  I  Ihe^K^n 
could  survey  them,  inside  and  out,  at  leisure.  The  Th^/k 
whole  village  consists  of  fifty  to  sixty  huts,  built,  all 
in  one  style,  in  four  somewhat  irregular  rows.  The 
structure  is  very  simple.  On  a  round,  arched  frame 
of  poles  and  bark,  earth  is  placed  with  grass  or  reeds; 
at  the  top,  in  the  middle,  an  opening  is  left  for  light 
and  smoke ;  in  front,  at  the  ground,  a  similar  opening 
as  an  entrance;  and  the  shanty  is  finished.  At  the 
open  door  there  is  usually  a  reed-covered  passage,  ex- 
tending a  few  steps  into  the  street.  There  are  about 
twelve  cut  braces  inside  the  house;  the  fireplace  is 
under  the  opening  in  the  roof;  at  the  side  are  some 
bunks  of  plaited  strips  of  wood.  The  whole  is  rather 
spacious. 

The  canoe  arrived  the  same  day.  The  wind  had 
been  adverse.  The  next  morning  we  crossed  the  river. 
All  our  baggage  was  brought  over  in  the  canoe;  the 
carts  were  driven  over  empty;  the  animals  were 
driven  or  ridden  through.  Everything  went  smoothly 
but  for  the  breaking  of  an  axle;  that  had  to  be 
mended.  The  Indians  visited  us  again,  and  received 
some  presents,  especially  tobacco,  for  which  they  were 
very  eager.  Without  further  interruption  we  con- 
tinued our  journey. 


^A 


CH  APTERo    FOUR 

JOURNEY  FROM  THE  KANZAS  TO 

THE  PLATTE-THE  ELK— 

THE  ANTELOPE 

W"1  E  turned  from  the  Ka  River  on  our  left, 
and  took  a  more  northwesterly  direc- 
tion. We  passed  two  more  villages  of 
the  Kas,  built  in  the  same  way,  and  de- 
serted, as  were  the  others.  The  weath- 
er heretofore  had  been  very  favorable, 
but  from  now  on  we  had  frequent  thunderstorms, 
alternating  with  a  Iceen  north  wind.  Our  baggage 
was  often  so  soaked  that  we  had  to  sleep  in  wet 
blankets,  and  get  up  in  the  morning  as  from  a  cold 
bath.  Nevertheless,  we  all  continued  in  health.  The 
country  through  which  we  go  is  still  the  same  rolling, 
treeless  prairie,  wearying  to  the  beholder's  eye.  Now 
that  we  are  penetrating  deeper  into  the  country,  we 
observe  more  caution  than  hitherto.  At  evening  we 
form  our  camp  in  a  square;  at  night  we  tie  our  ani- 
mals in  its  midst;  and  regularly  mount  guard.  On 
May  14th  we  came  to  the  Rush  River;  on  the  19th 


—  37  — 
to  the  Blue  River.     Both  are  rapid  streamlets,  unit-  journey  from 

^  the  Kanzas 

ing  somewhat  farther  down  as  the  Big  Blue  River^  -TheEil-^"' 
which  empties  into  the  Kanzas.  Game  becomes  more  Inteiope 
plentiful.  At  times  we  saw  deer,  and  also  some  wolves. 
At  Rush  River  one  of  our  hunters  (we  have  two 
hunters  in  our  company  who  daily  go  out  hunting) 
shot  an  elk  cow.  As  this  noble  animal,  which  was 
formerly  at  home  in  the  greater  part  of  the  United 
States,  is  known  to  the  younger  generation  only  by 
description,  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  devote  some  words 
to  it. 

The  elk  {Cervus  Canadensis)  bears  resemblance  to 
the  European  deer.  It  attains  the  size  of  a  mule  or 
small  horse.  The  antlers,  borne  only  by  the  male, 
grow  to  a  height  of  four  or  five  feet,  and  often  have 
twenty  to  thirty  tines.  The  antlers  are  shed  from 
February  to  August.  The  hair  is  bluish  gray  in  the 
fall,  dark  gray  during  the  winter,  and  reddish  brown 
in  spring  and  summer.  The  elk  is  very  skittish  and 
has  a  keen  sense  of  smell;  but  is  also  very  curious. 
He  must  see  the  object  of  his  fears,  and  often  runs 
directly  toward  the  hunter  whom  he  has  only  scented. 
But  as  soon  as  he  sees  him,  he  stares  at  him  a  mo- 
ment; then,  with  antlers  thrown  back  and  head  held 
high,  he  rushes  away  like  an  arrow.  In  August  and 
September,  the  pairing  season,  there  are  fierce  en- 
counters between  the  bucks.  It  is  then  most  unad- 
visable  to  approach  an  elk  that  is  merely  wounded; 
for  he  will  defend  himself  to  the  bitter  end  with  an- 
tler and  hoof,  and  even  assume  the  offensive.  In  May 


-38- 

the^KlnJas'"  ^"^  J"^^  ^^^  ^^^  bdngs  fortH  one  or  two  young.   The 
-Thelik-'  elks  live  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  us- 
Anteiope        ually  in  herds  of  twenty  or  thirty,  but  also  of  hun- 
dreds, and  even  thousands.     Their  meat  has  in  taste 
most  resemblance  to  beef;  but  is  inferior  to  buffalo 
meat. 

On  our  way  to  the  Blue  River  we  came  across  an- 
other not  less  interesting  inhabitant  of  the  wilderness, 
the  fleet  antelope  (Antelope  Americana,  Ord — 
Prong-horned  Antelope,  Sab. — wild  goat.)  This 
beautiful  swift  animal  is  of  the  size  of  our  German 
domestic  goat,  but  of  more  slender  and  elegant  build. 
Its  heavy,  thick,  smooth  hair  is  yellowish-brown  on 
neck,  back  and  feet.  On  the  flanks  it  shades  to  whit- 
ish. The  belly  and  breast  are  entirely  white.  The 
hair  at  the  back  of  the  head  is  somewhat  longer  and 
blackish.  The  tail  is  short  and  white  on  its  underside, 
as  is  the  deer's.  The  bucks  have  roundish  horns,  turn- 
ing backward  and  inward,  with  only  one  short  tine. 
These  horns  are  often  a  foot  long.  The  females  have 
shorter  horns,  and  instead  of  the  tine,  several  knobs. 
The  fleetness  of  the  antelope  excels  the  speed  of  a  race 
horse.  They  have  excellent  vision  and  keen  scent,  and 
are  very  skittish.  With  such  characteristics  it  would 
seem  almost  impossible  to  get  at  them;  but  they  have 
another  quality,  which  commonly  seals  their  fate — 
boundless  curiosity.  It  is  hard  to  stalk  them.  At 
first  sight  they  run  away;  but  if  the  hunter  lies  quietly 
down,  elevating  a  hat,  a  bright  colored  cloth,  or  even 
an  arm  or  leg,  curiosity  will  bring  them  back.  They 


—  39  — 

approach,  run  away  again,  and  repeat  the  perform-  {^""J^Z^ll"" 
ance  till  they  come  within  range.     For  this  reason  ^^thIeiu-* 
hunters  for  antelope  prefer  red  shirts.     Loud  colors   Anteiope 
stimulate  their  curiosity.     Antelopes  are  fond  of  ele- 
vations from  which  they  have  a  wide  view.     On  the 
plains  the  Indians  hunt  them  at  times  in  a  sort  of 
round-up ;  or  else  drive  them  into  a  fencing  made  of 
bushes,  wide  at  first  but  gradually  contracting,  till  it 
leads  to  a  swamp  or  some  sort  of  enclosure,  where 
they  can  easily  be  killed.     Under  all  circumstances 
hunting  antelope  requires  more  than  ordinary  skill  and 
care.     Antelopes  usually  live  together  in  small  herds 
of  from  ten  to  thirty.     On  this  side  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  they  are  much  more  common  than  beyond 
them.    The  meat  is  rather  tender,  but  lean  and  dry. 

We  marched  two  days  along  the  Blue  River  with- 
out following  its  windings.  We  now  repeatedly 
crossed  plateaus.  They  can  be  compared  with  noth- 
ing more  fittingly  than  with  the  sea.  Round  about, 
to  the  horizon,  one  sees  nothing  but  grass  and  sky; 
no  bush,  no  creek  relieves  the  eye  from  the  wearj'ing 
prospect.  Only  an  antelope  at  times  flits  by.  Any 
other  moving  body  causes  suspicion  rather  than  pleas- 
ure. On  May  21st,  we  saw  in  the  distance  such  sus- 
picious figures.  Our  spy-glasses  were  put  in  requisi- 
tion; but  the  objects  were  too  far  off  for  us  definitely 
to  decide  whether  they  were  elk,  horses  or  mounted 
men.  Some  hours  later  the  point  was  settled.  They 
were  five  Delawares  returning  from  beaver  trapping 
on  the  Missouri.    The  Delawares  are  a  tribe  friendly 


—  40  — 
Journey  from  to  thc  whitcs.     They  Hve  Oil  thc  western  border  of 

the  Kanzas  ,„  r  -n.  /r-  •  i-  •  '       ^ 

to  the  Plane  the  Statc  of  Missouri,  and  in  part  practice  agriculture, 
Antelope  ^^^  oftcn  Hiakc  cxcursIons  into  the  country  of  their 
red  brethren,  and  are  there  feared  for  their  fearless- 
ness and  their  superior  armament  with  guns.  These 
Delawares  had  shot  an  elk,  which  they  shared  with 
us,  receiving  some  flour  in  return. 

The  next  day  we  crossed  the  so-called  "Pawnee 
trails,"  a  broad  road  made  by  the  Pawnees,  a  quite 
hostile  Indian  tribe,  in  whose  vicinity  we  now  are. 
Indian  roads  are  usually  recognizable  by  the  marks  of 
their  tent  poles,  fastened  at  one  end  on  either  side  of 
their  pack  horses,  and  trailing  on  the  ground  with  the 
other.  On  either  side  of  the  Pawnee  trails  there  were 
vestiges  of  a  great  summer  encampment.  For  in  the 
summer  the  Indians  find  it  often  too  cumbersome  to 
carry  their  tents  of  skins  with  them,  and  so  make  at 
every  place  where  they  camp  so-called  summer  tents. 
For  this  the  squaws  cut  tree  branches  and  wands,  put 
them  intO'  the  ground  in  semi-circle,  and  cover  this 
little  natural  tent  with  a  blanket  or  a  hide.  Several 
hundred  such  tents  were  here  in  the  vicinity.  At 
evening  we  camped  for  the  last  time  near  the  Blue 
River.  We  had  had  a  north  wind  all  day  long,  but 
at  evening  the  wind  changed  to  the  west,  and  a  ter- 
rible storm  arose.  The  gale  upset  all  our  tents,  and 
the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents.  All  we  could  op- 
pose to  the  elements  was  stoic  equanimity.  We 
wrapped  ourselves  in  our  blankets  till  the  storm 
passed,  and  then  stretched  out  around  a  fire.     The 


—  41  — 

next  morning  was  pleasant.    We  were  still  twenty-five  the  KlLas" 
miles  from  the  Platte.    The  road  thither  again  went  -TheEiif-* 

The 

over  a  plateau  on  which  no  water  could  be  found;  but  Anteiope 
the  rain,  which  had  yesterday  so  incommoded  us,  had 
left  some  puddles  behind,  which  today  refreshed  us 
and  our  animals.  In  the  afternoon  we  reached  a  chain 
of  small  hills,  from  which  we  enjoyed  a  view  of  the 
Platte.     At  evening  we  camped  on  that  stream. 


Kr4 


CH  APTERo    FIVE 

JOURNEY  ALONG  THE  PLATTE 
TO  THE  SOUTH  FORK 

Tn  HE  Platte  has  its  sources  on  the  eastern 
slope  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  has 
two  main  branches  (North  and  South 
Fork),  which,  on  their  union,  flow  in 
an  easterly  direction  toward  the  Mis- 
souri. A  short  distance  below  the  meet- 
ing point  the  river  divides  afresh,  and  forms  a  great 
long  island.  At  this  island  we  reached  the  Platte. 
The  river,  of  which  we  saw  but  a  small  part,  is  not 
broad  at  this  point,  with  sparse  borders  of  Cottonwood 
(Popuhis  Canadensis).  The  river  valley  is  a  mile  or 
two  broad  on  either  side,  and  bounded  by  small  hills 
(bluffs).  The  river  is  shallow,  but  carries  so  much 
sand  that  one  may  sink  in  the  quicksands.  The  very 
valley  is  covered  with  pure  river  sand.  Vegetation 
seemed  here  not  tO'  have  advanced  as  far  as  in  the 
prairie;  but  even  at  this  point  can  be  found  the  buf- 
falo grass  (Sessleria  Dactyloides) ,  a  very  short,  deli- 
cate grass,  growing  in  isolated  bunches,  preferred  by 


—  43  — 

the  buffalo  to  every  other  kind,  and  also  much  appre-  i'^^^^^^^^ 
dated  by  our  animals.  It  grows  only  in  sandy  soil.  liuthPork^ 
We  ascended  the  right  bank  of  the  river  for  six  days. 
On  the  second  day  a  lot  of  Indians  encamped  oppo- 
site us  across  the  river.  We  thought  them  Pawnees, 
and  expected  a  nocturnal  visit  from  them,  as  they  are 
notorious  horse  thieves,  but  were  spared  the  infliction, 
probably  because  they  thought  the  river  too  danger- 
ous, or  else  because  we  were  too  watchful.  The 
next  morning  they  had  disappeared.  We  now  saw 
game  daily,  especially  antelope,  of  which  our  hunt- 
ers shot  one.  Many  water  birds  were  also  about. 
The  birds  we  had  seen  hitherto  consisted  chiefly  of 
prairie  chicken,  lark,  snipe,  and  a  small  kind  of  star- 
ling that  was  continuously  swarming  around  us,  and 
was  so  tame  that  it  would  at  times  sit  on  our  pack 
animals  while  on  the  march.  Here  we  got  sight  chief- 
ly of  water  birds,  such  as  ducks,  geese,  cranes,  peli- 
cans, gulls,  and  some  very  large  kinds  of  snipe.  We 
saw  daily  more  marks  of  buffalo.  Especially  we  saw 
many  buffalo  skulls,  whose  horns  are  always  carefully 
turned  by  the  Indians  toward  the  west.  The  Indians 
believe  that  they  thereby  secure  good  luck  on  the  buf- 
falo hunt,  and  call  it  "Medicine,"  with  which  they 
designate  everything  great  or  wonderful  to  which  they 
attribute  secret  influences.  Dried  buffalo  dung,  which 
we  now  find  quite  frequently,  we  now  use  occasionally 
for  fuel,  when  absolutely  no  wood  can  be  found.  It 
burns  tolerably  well,  but  makes  rather  a  glowing  than 
flaming  fire,  adequate  for  cooking,  but  small  comfort 


—  44 


Journey 
along  the 
Platte  to  the 
South  Fork 


in  severe  cold — and  the  weather  seems  to  be  no  more 
favorable  than  formerly.  We  have  penetrating  cold 
and  thunderstorms  in  alternation.  On  the  fifth  day 
we  came  to  a  burial  place  where  two  Americans  are 
interred — one,  while  drunk,  shot  the  other  and  then 
himself.  The  incident  happened  several  years  ago; 
a  simple  stake  marks  the  sad  spot.  On  the  seventh 
day  we  reached  the  junction  of  the  north  and  south 
arms  of  the  Platte.  The  bluffs,  like  the  wings  of  a 
stage,  on  either  side,  had  now  become  more  interest- 
ing. I  climbed  one  of  the  highest  points  to  enjoy  the 
view.  The  sandy  hills  are  cut  by  many  gulches,  and 
so  irregularly  thrown  together  that  in  comparison  to 
the  prairie  they  may  be  even  deemed  romantic.  Ar- 
riving at  the  top  I  found  considerable  strong  "medi- 
cine." Thirty  buffalo  skulls,  adorned  with  all  kinds 
of  gewgaws,  lay  before  me  in  a  magic  circle,  as  cun- 
ningly arranged  as  "Caspar"  in  the  "Freischuetz" 
could  have  done  it.  I  felt  no  kind  of  call  to  break 
the  charm,  but  took  out  my  spy-glass  to  enjoy  the 
view.  Before  me  lay  a  great  part  of  the  river  val- 
ley we  had  come  over.  I  traced  out  the  island  along 
which  we  had  passed,  and  the  shallow,  but  broad  and 
rapid,  stream,  whose  northern  and  southern  branches 
here  unite  at  an  acute  angle.  Opposite  me  were  other 
bluffs;  behind  me  the  boundless  prairie. 

After  I  had  enjoyed  the  fine  sight  to  the  full,  I 
hurried  back  to  my  party.  We  now  ascended  the 
right  bank  of  the  South  Fork,  over  which  we  were 
soon  to  cross.     On  the  same  day — it  was  the  twent)'- 


—  45 


sixth  of  our  journey — we  saw  the  first  herd  of  buffalo,  journey 

■'  •'  along  the 

The  rejoicing  was  general.  The  voyager  at  sea  can-  |o^VhF°*k 
not  long  more  for  land  than  the  traveler  in  that  region 
for  the  buffalo ;  for  only  in  the  land  of  the  buffalo  is 
there  comfort  and  superfluity.  Anxiously  the  days 
are  counted  till  one  may  expect  the  first  buffalo. 
Every  sign  is  investigated  by  which  one  may  gauge 
their  vicinity.  Weight  is  attached  even  to  dreams. 
Our  first  enthusiasm  brought  ruin  to  the  careless  herd; 
for  twelve  of  them  were  immediately  shot,  and  of 
most  of  them  the  tongue  only  was  taken.  The  juicy, 
nourishing  buffalo  meat  we  all  found  more  palatable 
than  the  lean  flesh  of  the  antelope.  The  next  morn- 
ing we  went  up  river  only  ten  miles,  and  camped 
there,  preparatory  to  crossing  the  South  Fork.  As 
special  boats,  covered  with  buffalo  hides,  are  con- 
structed for  that  purpose,  two  parties  were  forthwith 
sent  out  to  hunt,  to  procure  the  requisite  buffalo  hides. 
I  joined  one  of  these  parties.  But  before  we  go  on 
the  hunt,  let  us  consider  more  closely  the  noble  game 
about  to  be  hunted. 


ILJ 


CHAPTER^    SIX 

THE  BUFFALO 

T"lHE  buffalo  (Buffaloe,  Bison,  Bos  Ameri- 
canus)  is  of  the  size  of  an  ordinary  ox, 
though  his  ungainly  shape  and  long 
shaggy  hair  make  him  seem  larger. 
The  hair  is  yellowish  brown;  on  the 
head  and  at  the  extremities,  blackish. 
The  fore  part  of  the  body  to  back  of  the  shoulder 
blades  is  covered  with  thick  long  tufts.  On  the  fore- 
head the  hair  is  curled,  and  so  thick  that  a  bullet 
glances  off.  Two  short,  thick,  black  horns  project 
from  the  tangle;  below^  half  hidden  by  the  tufts  of 
hair,  roll  two  black  gleaming  eyes.  The  face  is  curved 
somewhat  convexly.  The  upper  lip  is  very  broad 
below.  From  the  underlip  to  the  knees  hangs  down 
a  long  terrible  beard.  The  head  is  very  large  and 
heavy;  the  neck  thick  and  strong.  On  the  back  rises 
a  considerable  hump,  formed  of  the  prolonged  spinal 
processes,  and  the  muscles  and  ligaments  thereto  at- 
tached. The  prolongation  of  the  spinal  processes  in- 
creases from  the  rear  to  the  front.     The  front  ones 


—  47  — 

are  often  twenty  to  twenty-four  inches  long.  They  The  Buffalo 
are  commonly  called  hump  ribs.  The  rear  part  of 
the  body  is  covered  with  shorter  hair,  which  is  like 
satin  in  summer.  The  tail  is  short  and  bare,  with  a 
bunch  of  hair  at  its  lower  end.  Differences  in  hair 
are  quite  rare;  but  it  is  claimed  that  at  times  white 
buffalo,  or  buffaloes  with  white  spots  have  been  seen. 
The  cow  differs  from  the  bull  in  being  of  smaller  size 
and  in  having  shorter  hair  and  weaker  horns.  The 
whole  appearance  of  the  buffalo  is  ungainly,  and  at 
first  sight  terrifying.  His  step  is  heavy;  nevertheless 
he  trots,  gallops  and  runs  to  match  a  horse.  His 
sense  of  smell  is  very  keen.  He  scents  man  at  a  mile. 
It  seems,  too,  that  the  smell  of  the  white  man  alarms 
him  more  than  that  of  the  Indian.  The  pairing  sea- 
son of  the  buffalo  lasts  from  the  end  of  July  to  the 
beginning  of  September.  At  this  time  the  bulls  and 
cows  form  one  herd.  Later  on,  rtiey  separate.  The 
cows  graze  together  in  separate  more  compact  herds, 
while  the  bulls  are  more  scattered.  In  April,  the  cows 
bring  forth  their  calves,  which  usually  run  with  them 
for  a  year.  As  to  numbers,  buffalo  herds  vary  greatly. 
One  finds  herds  of  fifty  to  a  hundred  head,  but  also 
of  a  thousand,  and  of  several  thousands.  Often  many 
herds  graze  side  by  side  and  cover  the  country  to  such 
an  extent  that  they  are  estimated  not  by  the  number 
of  herds,  but  only  by  the  miles  they  occupy.  It  is  a 
grand  sight  when  one  of  these  bands  suddenly  gets 
the  wind  of  some  enemy,  and,  with  an  old  bull  in  the 
lead,  runs  off  at  a  lumbering  gallop.     The  first  band 


-48- 

The Buffalo  throws  itself  on  the  second,  carrying  it  along  with  it; 
this  again  on  a  third,  and  so  on,  till  the  whole  herd, 
which  was  quietly  grazing  only  a  few  moments  be- 
fore, rushes  off  in  wild  flight,  seeming  one  great  black 
mass  in  whirling  clouds  of  dust.  A  fleeing  band  is 
irresistible.  It  bhndly  follows  its  leader;  with  him 
it  hurls  itself  over  precipices ;  it  swims  rivers  after 
him;  and  even  charges  through  the  travelers'  cara- 
vans, so  that  they  must  be  shot  in  self  defense,  to  keep 
them  from  the  train.  After  some  miles,  if  they  are 
not  pursued,  they  usually  halt,  and  begin  again  to 
graze.  As  I  said  before,  they  prefer  the  short  tender 
buffalo  grass.  It  grows  on  loamy  sandy  soil,  usually 
saturated  with  salts.  Where  a  buffalo  herd  has 
grazed  for  some  time  the  ground  is  absolutely  bare; 
for  what  they  do  not  eat  is  trampled  with  their  un- 
gainly feet.  Their  bellowing  can  often  be  heard  for 
miles.  It  is  deeper  and  more  mufiied  than  that  of  our 
cattle,  and  at  a  distance  not  unlike  the  grunting  of  a 
great  herd  of  swine.  To  their  watering  places  they 
form  narrow  paths,  over  which  they  leisurely  move 
on,  one  behind  the  other.  A  buffalo  region  is  crossed 
by  such  paths  in  every  direction.  Formerly  the  buffa- 
lo roamed  over  the  greater  part  of  the  United  States. 
Civilization  has  gradually  driven  them  back.  Their 
real  home  now  is  the  immense  prairie  between  the 
boundary  of  the  States  and  the  Rocky  Mountains.  In 
the  mountains  themselves,  and  beyond  them,  they  are 
much  rarer.  But  here,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  many 
thousands  are  yearly  killed  by  whites  and  Indians, 


—  49  — 

their  numbers  are  still  incalculable.  Should  it,  how-  The  Buffalo 
ever,  ever  come  to  the  extermination  of  these  animals, 
then  the  whole  of  this  country  must  necessarily  assume 
some  other  shape;  for  to  the  inhabitant  here  the  buf- 
falo is  more  important  than  is  his  camel  to  the  Arab. 
It  supplies  his  prime  necessities:  food,  dwelling  and 
clothing. 

The  hunt  for  buffalo  is  one  of  the  grandest  and 
most  interesting  of  which  I  know.  The  hunting  is 
done  either  a-foot  by  stalking,  or  on  horseback  by 
running.  In  both  cases  one  must  seek  to  be  on  the 
windward,  to  get  as  near  as  possible.  For  stalking, 
a  hilly  country  is  most  favorable ;  but  it  is  possible  to 
get  within  shooting  distance  on  the  plain,  if  one  does 
not  find  it  too  troublesome  to  creep  on  hands  and 
knees,  often  for  a  mile.  Even  if  the  buffaloes  see  the 
hunter  at  this  unusual  locomotion,  they  often  let  him 
get  near  enough  to  shoot,  provided  his  motion  is  quiet 
and  regular.  At  the  first  shot  they  usually  run  away; 
but  at  times,  when  they  do  not  see  the  hunter,  they 
simply  become  restless,  and  permit  him  several  shots. 
A  wounded  buffalo  attacks  the  hunter  only  when  he 
approaches  too  close;  but  then  he  uses  his  horns  as  a 
terrible  weapon.  The  best  place  to  give  a  buffalo  a 
deadly  wound  is  behind  the  shoulder  blades,  where 
the  thick  coat  of  hair  stops.  Shots  back  of  that 
through  the  body  trouble  him  little.  A  bullet  on  the 
head  either  glances  off  from  the  thick  hair  and  firm 
skull,  or  at  best  does  not  penetrate  far.  Rarely  does  a 
buffalo  collapse  at  the  first  shot.     Usually  they  drag 


—  50  — 

The  Buffalo  themselves  along  and  remain  standing  on  their  feet 
to  the  last  breath.  In  this  respect  the  bulls  show 
greater  vitality  than  the  cows.  If  the  wound  is  near 
the  backbone,  they  often  fall  down  on  the  spot;  but 
recover  after  a  while  and  escape,  often  with  the  loss 
of  the  tongue  or  of  some  other  piece  of  flesh  that  has 
been  already  cut  out  of  them.  Much  more  interest- 
ing than  stalking  is  the  hunt  on  horseback.  This  re- 
quires a  skillful  rider  and  a  quick,  well-trained  horse. 
A  good  buffalo  hunter  prefers  to  ride  without  a  sad- 
dle. He  sticks  one  pistol  in  his  belt,  holds  the  other 
in  his  right  hand,  and  starts  off  at  top  speed.  He 
rushes  into  the  midst  of  the  fleeing  herd,  and  for  some 
minutes  buffaloes  and  rider  disappear  in  a  thick  cloud 
of  dust.  But  suddenly  he  reappears  at  one  side  close 
behind  a  buffalo  which  he  has  picked  for  his  prey  and 
separated  from  the  herd.  The  hunted  animal  exerts 
all  its  strength  to  escape  its  pursuer;  but  the  emulous 
horse  races  with  him,  following  all  his  turnings,  al- 
most without  guidance  by  the  bridle.  Now  he  has 
overtaken  him;  he  is  racing  close  to  his  left  side;  but 
the  buffalo  turns  sharply  and  the  horse  shoots  past 
him.  The  race  begins  afresh.  Again,  the  horse  over- 
takes the  buffalo;  again  they  are  running  parallel,  and 
the  rider  discharges  his  pistol  point-blank  In  the  buf- 
falo's flank.  He  now  gallops  slowly  after  the  ex- 
hausted animal,  and,  If  necessary,  gives  him  a  second 
shot.  Often  the  wounded  animal  turns  upon  the  rider, 
who  must  then  rely  on  the  swiftness  of  his  horse  for 
safety.  The  cows  are  more  agile  than  the  bulls;  swift- 


—  51  — 

er  horses  are  therefore  required  in  hunting  them.  The  The  Buffalo 
Indians  usually  hunt  the  buffalo  on  horseback  in  the 
way  just  described,  with  the  difference  that  instead  of 
firearms  they  commonly  use  bow  and  arrow.  In  full 
career  they  discharge  their  arrows  with  such  accuracy 
and  force  that  occasionally  the  arrow  pierces  the  ani- 
mal and  wounds  another  one.  When  the  Indians  hunt 
buffalo  in  mass,  as  they  do  in  winter  for  the  hide,  they 
use  devices  such  as  I  have  mentioned  before  with  ref- 
erence to  hunting  the  antelope.  Among  other  things, 
they  sometimes  drive  them  over  steep  cliffs,  whereby 
whole  herds  are  killed. 

Buffalo  meat  tastes  much  better  th?n  beef.  The 
meat  of  the  cows  is  usually  tenderer  and  fatter  than 
that  of  the  bulls,  and  particularly  deserves  the  pref- 
erence in  summer,  when  the  bulls  are  lean  and  un- 
palatable. From  the  slain  buffalo  only  the  best  pieces 
are  taken,  namely,  the  tongue,  the  ribs,  the  hump- 
ribs,  the  meat  on  either  side  of  the  backbone,  and  the 
marrow  bones,  with  at  times  also  the  liver  and  kidney. 
Buffalo  tongues  are  celebrated;  in  dried  condition 
they  are  sent  by  thousands  to  the  States ;  but  the  ribs, 
especially  the  hump  ribs  of  a  fat  cow,  are  much  finer. 
They  are  usually  roasted  on  the  spit,  while  other  parts 
are  better  suited  for  boiling.  The  thigh-bones,  or  so- 
called  marrow-bones,  are  thrown  into  the  fire  until 
they  are  roasted,  and  then  cracked  open,  yielding  the 
finest  marrow  that  ever  tickled  a  gourmand's  palate. 
Considering  the  absence  of  bread,  and  the  traveler's 
life  in  the  open  air  and  daily  exercise,  it  is  not  re- 


—  52  — 

The  Buffalo  markable  that  the  appetite  makes  unusual  demands, 
and  that  people,  who  formerly  were  accustomed  to 
eat  scarcely  a  pound  of  meat  daily,  can  consume  eight 
and  ten  times  as  much  of  fresh  buffalo  meat,  without 
being  gluttons  on  that  account.  With  the  abundance 
of  buffalo  such  a  healthy  appetite  can  be  satisfied 
without  trouble.  Only  so  much  is  shot  daily  as  will 
last  for  a  few  days.  But  if  the  journey  goes  through 
a  region  where  neither  buffalo  nor  other  game  is  to 
be  found,  the  buffalo  meat  is  dried  as  follows:  The 
meat  is  cut  in  strips  as  thin  as  possible,  and  hung  upon 
poles  or  scaffolds,  and  there  allowed  to  dry  in  the  sun. 
If  time  is  limited,  a  little  fire  is  at  first  maintained  un- 
der it ;  but  it  tastes  better  without  the  fire.  When  it 
is  dried,  it  is  beaten  with  a  stone  or  hammer  to  make 
it  more  tender.  It  is  then  eatable,  either  dry  or 
cooked,  and  can  be  kept  for  years,  if  protected  against 
moisture  and  insects.  The  so-called  toro  is  still  more 
suitable  for  preservation.  For  its  preparation  this 
dried  meat  is  beaten  with  a  stone  into  a  coarse  grained 
powder,  and  mixed  with  as  much  melted  buffalo  fat 
and  tallow  as  it  will  hold.  The  paste  thus  formed  is 
pressed  as  compactly  as  possible  into  a  bag  of  buffalo 
skin,  which  is  then  firmly  sewed  up. 

The  whites  use  the  buffalo  chiefly  for  food.  The 
green  skins  are  too  heavy,  and  their  preparation  too 
difficult  to  justify  the  trouble  of  carrying  them  off. 
The  Indians,  on  the  other  hand,  tan  the  hides  and 
use  them  partly  for  their  own  dwelling  and  clothing, 
partly  in  barter  with  the  whites.    Tanning  is  the  busi- 


—  53  — 

ness  of  the  Indian  women  solely,  and  Is  carried  on  as  "^^^  Buffalo 
follows :  They  first  stretch  the  fresh  hide  with  pegs 
on  the  ground,  clean  it  with  sharp  stones  of  all  flesh, 
fat  and  skinny  parts,  and  finally  rub  in  fresh  buffalo 
brains.  This  latter  gives  the  hides  great  pliancy,  but 
is  not  a  real  tanning  process.  The  hides  thus  prepared 
can  therefore  stand  little  moisture,  and  the  hair  falls 
out  easily.  The  inner  side  of  the  hide  thus  prepared 
is  usually  adorned  with  all  kinds  of  gaily  colored  fig- 
ures. Hides  that  are  to  be  tanned  on  both  sides  are 
boiled  in  a  solution  of  brain.  When  the  hair  is  re- 
moved, brain  is  again  rubbed  in ;  and  finally  the  hides 
are  smoked,  which  makes  them  very  suitable  for  tents 
and  clothing.  In  addition  to  the  hide,  the  Indians 
never  forget  to  take  the  strong  sinews  from  the  neck 
and  back  of  the  buffalo.  They  dry  them,  and  use 
them,  torn  into  threads,  with  aid  of  an  awl,  for  sew- 
ing. 

With  these  manifold  uses  which  the  Indian  makes 
of  the  buffalo,  it  will  not  seem  strange  to  us,  that  this 
animal  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  all  their  religious 
ceremonials;  that  great  buffalo  hunts  can  only  be  be- 
gun with  mysterious  rites ;  that  the  brave  Indian  dies 
in  the  belief  that  he  is  going  to  a  land  full  of  buffalo; 
and  that  one  chief  ground  of  the  hatred  of  the  Indians 
for  the  whites  consists  in  their  dread  that  the  buffalo 
herds  will  be  driven  away  and  destroyed.  The  Indian 
and  the  buffalo  are  Siamese  twins;  both  live  and  thrive 
only  on  one  ground,  that  of  the  wilderness.  Both 
will  perish  together. 


^^i 


w< 


CHAPTER^     SEVEN 

THE  SIOUX— PASSAGE  OF   THE 
SOUTH  FORK 


o 


IJR  hunting  party  consisted  of  only  three 
men.  We  had  ridden  but  a  few  miles, 
when  we  saw  Indians  in  the  distance, 
who  had  probably  seen  us  long  before. 
One  of  them  galloped  toward  us.  He 
had  no  clothing  except  an  apron  about 
the  loins;  and  no  arms  except  bow  and  arrows.  We 
halted.  The  Indian  gave  us  his  hand  in  sign  of  friend- 
ship, and  let  us  understand  that  a  great  Indian  en- 
campment was  in  the  vicinity.  Though  the  news  was 
unwelcome,  especially  as  we  did  not  know  to  what 
tribe  these  Indians  belonged,  we  continued  our  hunt. 
We  soon  saw  buffalo,  but  they  had  been  put  into  such 
turmoil  by  the  Indians,  who  were  hunting  them,  that 
it  was  a  long  time  before  we  got  a  shot.  From  a  hill 
I  could  survey  the  hunting  of  the  Indians,  and  ad- 
mire their  skill  as  riders  and  as  marksmen.  Most  of 
them  were  armed  only  with  bow  and  arrow,  though 
a  few  had  guns.     After  we  had  ridden  perhaps  ten 


—  55  — 

miles,  we  were  lucky  enough  to  kill  three  head.  The  lasslg^of 
last  one  was  a  cow.  For  a  while  she  looked  on  as  we  Fo*i-k°" 
flayed  a  bull,  but  forfeited  her  life  by  her  curiosity. 
She  had  a  calf  with  her  that  took  to  flight.  The  cow's 
udder  was  full  of  milk.  We  sucked  out  the  milk,  and 
found  it  refreshing  and  palatable.  Laden  with  the 
hides,  we  returned  at  evening  to  the  camp,  where  in 
our  absence  the  Indians  had  also  arrived.  We  now 
learned  that  there  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river 
about  five  miles  up  stream  a  camp  or  village  of  sev- 
eral tribes  of  Sioux  (Shiennes,  Brules,  Tetons,  and 
Arapahoes)  and  of  the  Ogallallas.  The  Ogallallas 
and  Sioux  had  formerly  been  at  war;  but  had  made 
peace  shortly  before  this,  and  had  united.  The  In- 
dians who  visited  our  camp  had  received  small  pres- 
ents, especially  tobacco ;  and,  as  the  fur  company  still 
had  some  flour,  had  been  regaled  with  sweetened 
mush,  which  was  so  much  to  their  taste  that,  after 
satiating  themselves  to  the  full,  they  had  taken  the 
remainder  with  them.  They  also  requested  powder 
and  whiskey,  which  was  refused  them  on  the  pretext 
that  we  had  no  superfluity  of  the  former,  and  nothing 
at  all  of  the  latter.  Our  leader,  Harris,  thoroughly 
realized  that  these  unwelcome  guests  would  further 
trouble  us,  and  that  just  now  was  a  most  inadvisable 
time  for  crossing  the  river.  So  at  night,  after  all  the 
Indians  had  left,  he  caused  the  few  barrels  of  spirits 
which  he  had  with  him  to  be  buried,  and  enjoined  on 
all  of  us  the  greatest  vigilance.  The  night  passed 
quietly.     The  next  morning  about  sixty  Indians  on 


-56- 

p&Lfeeor  horseback  appeared  on  a  little  rise  In  the  nelghbor- 
«lesouth  hood  of  our  camp.  They  rode  In  a  line  up  to  our 
camp,  giving  a  salute  In  our  honor  out  of  as  many 
guns  as  they  could  muster,  and  sat  down  with  us  In  a 
seml-clrcle.  All  appeared  In  gala  attire,  decked  as 
far  as  possible  with  ornaments  and  bright  rags,  and 
with  their  faces  freshly  painted.  One  of  them  wore 
a  red  English  uniform,  on  which  he  prided  himself 
not  a  little.  They  had  three  leaders  with  them.  One 
of  them  delivered  an  address,  which  may  have  been 
very  eloquent,  but  of  which  none  of  us  understood  a 
word.  To  judge  by  his  gestures,  however,  he  had 
taken  the  pale  faces  to  his  heart,  and  expected  in  re- 
turn evidences  of  our  appreciation  thereof.  The  pipe 
of  peace  was  of  course  not  forgotten,  but  went  around 
the  circle  several  times.  The  Indians  received  tobac- 
co, which  was  divided  out  among  the  warriors  by 
these  leaders,  and  were  again  regaled  with  sweetened 
mush.  In  the  afternoon,  a  second  party  of  Indians 
arrived  a-foot,  with  two  divers  colored  flags,  on  one 
of  which  a  star  was  embroidered,  and  on  the  other  a 
cock.  The  Indian  who  bore  the  former  was  painted 
red  In  the  face;  he  who  bore  the  other,  wholly  black. 
Speeches  and  smoking,  presents  and  feeding  were  re- 
peated. Toward  evening  our  guests  left  us,  seem- 
ingly satisfied  with  their  reception.  While  this  was 
going  on  In  our  camp  the  rest  of  the  Indians  had 
broken  up  their  own  camp,  and  had  established  them- 
selves across  the  river  just  opposite  to  us.  The  whole 
shore  became  alive.     The  tents  were  erected  in  sev- 


—  57  — 

eral  rows  for  about  a  mile  along  the  river,  and  formed  p^^^t^^of 
an  interesting,  though  hardly  agreeable,  sight.  The  pl^ru""*^ 
high,  conical,  leather  tents  with  the  projecting  tent 
poles  looked  from  a  distance  not  unlike  a  sea-port. 
By  our  estimate  there  might  be  seven  or  eight  hun- 
dred tents ;  later  on,  we  heard  that  there  were  about 
a  thousand.  As  each  of  them  contained  at  least  one 
family,  we  estimated  the  whole  number  at  five  to  six 
thousand.  Our  situation  was  critical.  Separated  from 
such  a  crowd,  eager  for  robbing  and  plundering,  and 
so  superior  to  us  in  numbers,  merely  by  a  river,  whose 
passage  offered  no  special  difficulties,  there  remained 
for  us,  should  it  come  to  hostilities,  nothing  but  quiet- 
ly to  allow  ourselves  to  be  robbed,  perhaps  even 
scalped,  or  else  to  defend  ourselves  to  the  utmost  with- 
out any  hope  for  success.  True,  the  Indians  who  had 
visited  our  camp  today  had  behaved  pretty  decently; 
but  every  Indian  has  sufficient  self-control  to  conceal 
his  real  plans.  Besides,  the  Sioux  have  repeatedly 
shown  themselves  treacherous.  All  we  could  do  for 
the  time  was  to  shun  all  cause  for  hostilities,  and 
quietly  delay  the  crossing  of  the  river  until  the  In- 
dians should  leave  us.  For  they  had  given  out  that 
they  were  going  the  next  day  from  here  to  the  North 
Fork. 

Morning  appeared,  but  the  Indian  camp  had  not 
budged.  On  the  other  hand,  we  received  abundant 
visits  in  ours.  The  river  was  about  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  broad;  quite  rapid  to  be  sure,  but  generally  not 
very  deep,  so  that  one  could  cross  a-foot  or  on  horse- 


-58- 

Pas'sfee^oT"  back  wlthout  iTiuch  swimming.  Besides,  the  Indians 
thesouth  j^^^  made  a  little  canoe  out  of  buffalo  hides,  on  which 
they  crossed.  Many  squaws  paid  us  their  respects 
today.  As  none  of  us  understood  the  Indian  lan- 
guage, we  had  to  communicate  by  signs,  wherein  the 
Indians  have  great  skill.  We  obtained  by  barter  with 
them  several  articles,  such  as  tanned  skins,  mocassins, 
buffalo  hides  and  the  like.  For  a  piece  of  chewing 
tobacco  as  big  as  a  hand  one  could  get  a  fine  buffalo 
hide.  Some  Indians  would  sell  everything  they  had 
/  on.     But  all  showed  immense  curiosity. 

/  They  were  continuously  about  us  in  our  tents;  all 

objects  that  were  new  to  them  they  stared  at  and  han- 
dled, not  failing  to  appropriate  some  when  unol> 
served.  The  two  wives  of  the  Missionaries  were  spe- 
cial objects  of  their  curiosity.  Among  the  guests  who 
visited  us  today  there  was  a  leader  of  the  Ogallallas, 
Bullbear  by  name.  He  is  rather  aged  and  of  squat, 
thick  figure.  He  had  one  of  his  seven  wives  with  him. 
Our  leader  knew  him  from  former  days  as  a  friend 
of  the  whites,  and  so  invited  him  to  stay  with  his  wife 
over  night.  Bullbear  gave  us  to  understand  that  he 
could  answer  for  his  tribe,  but  not  for  the  others;  and 
readily  accepted.  The  other  Indians  toward  evening 
went  back  over  the  river. 

Mrs.  Bullbear  is  not  ugly,  and  knows  how  to  ac- 
cept the  presents  made  to  her  with  much  grace.  Her 
leather  shirt  is  richly  adorned  with  beads  and  em- 
broidery. All  night  through  matters  were  lively  in 
the  Indian  camp.     Dreadfully  piercing  notes  came  to 


—  59  — 

us  over  the  water;  and  then  a  chorus  of  some  thou-  p^^^l^l^'^f' 
sand  dogs  howled  such  night  music  as  I  have  never  Fo^rk°"^^ 
yet  heard.  The  next  morning  we  saw  with  pleasure 
how  the  Indians  struck  their  tents,  packed  their  horses 
and  dogs,  and  gradually  set  themselves  in  motion  to- 
ward the  North  Fork.  We  watched  the  march  with 
our  spy-glasses.  The  North  Fork  was  only  about 
three  miles  from  us.  The  Indians  crossed  it,  and  set 
up  their  camp  on  the  further  shore.  They  also  seemed 
to  watch  us,  for  they  directed  little  mirrors  toward  us. 
Glad  to  be  rid  of  our  guests,  we  set  in  earnest  about 
finishing  the  canoe  at  which  we  had  hitherto  worked 
but  slowly.  These  canoes  are  made  in  the  following 
manner:  Small  trunks  of  some  wood  that  bends  easily 
are  split;  out  of  these  a  boat-shaped  frame-work  is 
made  with  some  cross-pieces  inside;  this  is  firmly 
bound  with  thongs  of  buffalo  leather  and  willow  bark, 
and  all  gaps  are  stopped  with  withes;  and  buffalo 
hides,  sewed  together,  with  the  hair  inside,  are 
stretched  as  taut  as  can  be  over  the  whole.  Then  it  is 
dried  in  the  air,  and  the  outside  daubed  over  with  a 
mixture  of  buffalo  tallow  and  ashes.  Our  canoe  was 
covered  with  three  buffalo  hides,  and  was  about  fif- 
teen feet  long  by  a  width  in  the  middle  of  five  to  six 
feet.  It  was  finished  toward  evening,  but  we  still 
spent  the  night  here,  to  dig  up  the  buried  barrels  of 
spirits.  The  next  morning  our  canoe  was  put  into  the 
water.  Though  everything  seemed  quiet  in  the  In- 
dian camp,  our  leader  preferred  to  cross  the  river 
somewhat  further  up.    He  detailed  four  men  to  draw 


—  6o  — 

Th^sioux-  ^p  j-hg  canoe  along  the  shore.  The  rest  of  us  marched 
thesouth  about  ten  miles  and  camped  again  on  the  river.  The 
canoe  arrived  too  late  for  crossing  that  same  day;  but 
on  the  next  day  we  finally  accomplished  our  passage. 
The  river  was  rather  broad  and  swift,  but  deep  in 
only  few  places.  As  far  as  walking  was  possible,  the 
four  men  pulled  the  boat  through  the  water;  then 
paddles  and  poles  are  used,  during  which  time  we 
were  often  carried  far  down  stream.  Each  passage 
to  and  fro  took  over  an  hour.  First,  all  the  baggage 
and  the  empty  carts  were  carried  over  in  the  canoe; 
then  the  passengers;  finally  the  horses  and  mules  were 
driven  through  the  water.  Apart  from  some  few 
mishaps,  arousing  more  laughter  than  sympathy,  all 
went  well.  In  addition,  we  made  ten  miles  that  same 
day,  going  up  the  stream,  and  camping  on  It. 


p^.il 


CHAPTERj)     EIGHT 

JOURNEY  UP  THE  NORTH  FORK— 
THE    PRAIRIE    DOG- 
FORT   LARAMIE 

T"1HE  left  bank  of  the  southern  Platte, 
which  we  are  now  ascending,  is  very 
sandy;  the  vegetation  is  scant.  The 
bluffs  close  at  hand  are  also  of  sand- 
stone, A  tower-like  column  of  pure 
river  sand  rises  in  noticeable  promi- 
nence. For  some  days  we  went  up  the  river.  We 
observed  very  many  bitter  herbs,  especially  worm- 
wood; also  Pomme  Blanche  {Psoralea  esculenta) , 
whose  knobby  root  contains  much  starch,  has  a  pleas- 
ant taste,  and  is  gathered  by  the  Indians.  Long  gar- 
lands of  blooming  wild  roses  frequently  extended 
along  the  river.  We  saw  no  buffalo,  but  our  hunters 
shot  on  the  bluffs  several  antelope,  so  that  we  suffered 
no  want.  On  the  third  day  (June  6th)  we  left  the 
river,  going  across  a  plateau  in  a  northwesterly  direc- 
tion toward  the  North  Fork.  On  this  plateau  we 
saw  for  the  first  time  wild  horses.     They  were  very 


—  62-^ 

Journey  up     sklttlsh.    Their  sense  of  smell  is  said  to  be  very  keen. 

the  North  ,  •'    . 

prliHe^icfo  We  also  got  sight  of  the  European  rabbit,  which  is 
Lfrlmie  HOt  found  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  United  States. 
The  day  was  very  sultry.  We  covered  eighteen 
miles  before  we  found  some  water  in  a  puddle.  In 
the  afternoon,  while  we  were  again  on  the  march,  we 
were  overtaken  by  a  terrible  hailstorm.  Some  of  the 
hailstones  were  as  big  as  pigeon  eggs.  The  horses  on 
which  we  rode  could  hardly  be  held  in  check ;  but  the 
pack  animals  ran  away  as  if  under  the  lash.  The  hail- 
storm lasted,  with  short  interruptions,  about  half  an 
hour.  We  then  gathered  up  our  pack  animals,  which 
had  run  miles  in  the  meantime,  and  camped  near  Ash 
Creek,  which  empties  into  the  North  Fork.  The  next 
morning  we  reached  the  North  Fork,  but  it  was  noon 
before  we  could  find  a  passage  for  our  carts.  The 
North  Fork  with  its  surroundings  is  just  like  the 
South  Fork — much  sand,  little  wood,  no  buffalo.  We 
are  now  to  go  up  the  right  side  of  the  river  about  one 
hundred  and  sixty  miles  to  Fort  Laramie.  The  next 
day  we  saw  four  Indians  on  the  further  bank.  They 
swam  over.  They  were  Shiennes.  They  gave  us  to 
understand  that  their  tribe  had  parted  from  the  Sioux 
and  would  be  here  in  a  few  days  to  go  up  the  river 
with  us.  They  urged  us,  therefore,  to  wait.  Our 
leader  acted  as  if  he  did  not  understand  them,  gave 
them  some  tobacco,  and  went  on.  The  next  day  we 
received  a  second  embassy,  but  with  no  better  result. 
The  bluffs  of  our  side,  on  which  I  now  saw  for  the 
first  time   some  cedars,   gradually   diminished   until 


-63- 

they  were  lost  in  the  prairie.  But  behind  them  {^.y^'^^^IJP 
reddish  diffs  arose,  steeper  and  more  imposing  than  p°atr'ii'^Doi 
we  had  yet  seen.  The  sand  formation  prevails  in  them  Lar°amie 
also.  Several  such  rows  of  cliffs  are  crowded  togeth- 
er en  echelon,  with  a  grassy  embankment  in  front  of 
each,  flattening  down  at  the  end  of  the  chain.  Each 
chain  consists  of  more  or  less  broken  down  (weather 
worn)  rocks,  often  presenting  the  strangest  of  shapes. 
So  the  first  cliff  in  the  first  chain,  perhaps  eight  miles 
from  the  river,  presented  quite  the  appearance  of  an 
old  castle  or  citadel.  More  remarkable  still  is  the 
last  chff  of  the  same  chain.  Its  tower-like  top  is  seen 
from  a  distance  of  thirty  or  forty  miles,  for  which 
reason  it  has  been  called  the  chimney.  It  is  only  a 
mile  from  the  river.  The  cone-shaped  base  consti- 
tutes about  three-fourths  of  Its  height,  the  pyramidal 
top  one-quarter  of  it.  The  foundation  is  limestone; 
above  it  is  crumbling  sandstone.  The  height  of  the 
whole  is  given  as  525  feet;  that  of  the  top  part  as  125 
feet. 

Heavy  down-pourings  of  rain  often  Interrupted 
our  journey.  Almost  daily  we  had  thunderstonns, 
for  which  the  Platte  is  notorious.  One  time  we  had 
to  stay  In  camp  almost  all  day  on  account  of  the  rain ; 
but  by  way  of  compensation  we  found  a  quantity  of 
pine  wood  and  cedar  wood,  washed  down  from  the 
rocks  on  which  it  grows  sparsely;  and  beside  the 
blazing  fire  we  laughed  at  the  weather  and  forgot  all 
discomfort.  The  next  day  the  sky  cleared.  We 
traveled  somewhat  away  from  the  river,  toward  the 


-64- 

■the'^North*'  •'^^^'  ^"^  enjoyed  a  picturesque  landscape.  All  about 
p°Ih-7e^D^og  were  rocks  piled  up  by  Nature  in  merry  mood,  giving 
Lwamie  full  scopc  to  fancy  in  the  variety  of  their  shapes. 
Some  were  perfect  cones;  others  flat  round  tops; 
others,  owing  to  their  crenulated  projections,  resem- 
bled fortresses ;  others  old  castles,  porticos,  etc.  Most 
of  them  were  sparsely  covered  with  pine  and  cedar. 
The  scenery  has  obvious  resemblance  to  several  places 
in  Saxon  Switzerland. 

At  noon  we  halted  in  a  little  valley  where  rocks 
from  either  side  confronted  each  other  at  a  distance  of 
half  a  mile.  A  fresh  spring  meanders  through  the 
valley.  We  encamped  on  the  hill  from  which  the 
spring  flows.  The  place  had  something  romantic 
about  it.  All  around  grew  pine  and  cedars,  wild  roses, 
gooseberries  and  currants;  from  the  top  of  the  hill 
one  enjoyed  a  wide  prospect.  On  the  one  side  the 
Chimney  and  the  whole  chain  of  rocks  we  had  passed 
showed  themselves;  on  the  other  side,  fresh  hills. 
Before  us  lay  the  Platte.  The  magnificent  surround- 
ings, the  clear  sky  and  fresh  antelope  meat  put  us  all 
in  good  humor.  But  increasing  sultriness  reminded 
us  soon  that  we  had  not  yet  received  our  daily  allow- 
ance of  thunder  showers.  We  traveled  twelve  miles 
in  the  rain  that  afternoon,  and  camped  by  the  stream, 
at  whose  spring  we  had  our  noon  rest.  It  was  so 
swollen  by  the  rains  that  we  had  to  postpone  crossing 
till  the  next  day.  The  next  morning  we  crossed  it,  as 
well  as  Horse  Creek,  only  a  few  hundred  steps  fur- 
ther on,  and  then  turned,  over  a  long  uninteresting 


-65- 

hill,  again  toward  the  river.     From  the  top  of  the  {°"/S'„^,7 
hill  we  saw  in  the  western  distance  the  Black  Hills,  prah-7e  Doe 

,       .  r  •  1  —Fort 

a  chain  of  mountains  we  must  cross  later  on.  Laramie 

Near  the  Platte  I  saw  on  this  occasion  for  the  first 
time  a  so-called  prairie-dog  village.  Single  dwellings 
of  this  strange  animal  we  had  already  observed  on 
the  South  Fork;  but  here  we  had  a  whole  colony  be- 
fore us,  and  also  got  a  look  at  some  of  the  shy  in- 
habitants. The  prairie  dog  (prairie  marmot,  Jrc- 
tomys  Ludovicianus ,  Ord),  resembles  the  hamster 
of  Europe,  and  belongs  to  the  same  genus.  He  is  six- 
teen inches  long;  the  hair  yellowish-brownish-reddish; 
the  head  broad;  the  ears  short;  the  body  stout,  the 
hairy  tail  about  two  inches  long.  The  five  toes  on 
each  foot  are  of  very  unequal  length.  This  animal 
digs  itself  holes  underground.  The  earth  thrown  out 
forms  toward  the  exterior  a  firm  round  wall.  The 
funnel-shaped  entrance  is  one  or  two  hands  broad. 
For  a  foot  it  runs  perpendicularly  down;  then  ob- 
liquely inward  and  downward.  Such  dwellings,  at 
moderate  space  from  each  other,  can  be  seen  spread 
over  an  area  of  several  acres,  or  even  miles.  That  is 
called  a  village.  Hundreds,  even  thousands  of  these 
animals  live  in  this  way  neighborly  together.  In  fair 
weather  they  come  out  of  their  holes  to  sun  them- 
selves; squat  quaintly  on  their  hind  legs,  and  utter  a 
sharp,  twittering  sound.  At  man's  approach  they 
raise  a  fiercer  cry,  wagging  their  short  tails  withal, 
as  if  prepared  for  serious  combat.  If  one  comes  near- 
er, however,  they  withdraw  Into  their  holes,  at  most 


—  66  — 

th^^No^th^  peeping  out.  Even  if  one  shoots  them,  they  fall  back 
prIh-]^^Dog  into  their  holes,  and  are  not  easily  got  out.  In  each 
Lwamie  hole  scvcral  live  together.  Often  six  or  eight  can 
be  seen  retiring  into  one  hole.  The  prairie  dog  lives 
on  the  seeds  of  several  kinds  of  grass;  but  his  dwell- 
ing is  usually  found  in  sandy  regions,  where  grass 
grows  scantily.  He  is  found  rather  plentifully  on 
either  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  sleeps 
through  the  winter,  and  so  stuffs  up  the  opening  of 
his  hole  in  the  fall  with  grass.  One  often  sees  dif- 
erent  animals  creep  into  these  holes,  especially  rattle- 
snakes, which  are  numberless  In  these  regions,  lizards, 
turtles,  and  a  small  kind  of  owl  (Stryx  hypogaea,  Bo- 
nap).  This  quodlibet  of  animals  cannot  possibly  con- 
stitute a  friendly  family;  but  Pike  assures  us  that  he 
has  repeatedly  seen  a  prairie  dog,  a  horned  frog  and 
a  turtle  withdraw  into  the  same  hole.  The  owls  and 
rattlesnakes  seem  to  do  most  damage  to  the  prairie 
dogs. 

The  North  Platte,  which  we  were  now  ascending, 
was  here  better  supplied  with  wood  than  below,  espe- 
cially with  Cottonwood.  We  spent  the  night  on  its 
banks,  In  the  neighborhood  of  an  old  winter  camp. 
A  number  of  cottonwood  trees  were  lying  about,  which 
had  been  used  partly  for  fencing,  partly  as  fodder  for 
the  horses.  (In  winter  the  horses  are  fed  with  the 
bark  of  the  tree.) 

The  next  morning  (June  14th),  we  left  camp  in 
good  humor,  for  the  crotchety  master  of  human  crot- 
chets, I  mean  the  weather,  smiled  on  us;  and  the  vi- 


-67- 

cinity   of   Fort  Laramie,   but   sixteen  miles   distant,  ^^Nonh" 
promised  us  a  speedy  meeting  with  human    beings.   Prai>7e^D\e 
Before  we  reached  the  fort,  we  encountered  the  first  Laramie 
"pale  faces"  we  had  seen  since  our  departure  from 
Missouri.     They  were  French  Canadians,  clad  half 
Indian  fashion  in  leather,  and  scurrying    along    on 
their  ponies,  bedight  with  bells  and  gay  ribbons,  as  if 
intent  to  storm  some    battery.     Old    acquaintances 
greeted  each  other,  question  piled  on  question;  and 
each  briefly  told,  in  Canadian  patois,  the  adventures 
he  had  been  through.     Meanwhile  we  came  in  view 
of  the  fort. 

At  a  distance  it  resembles  a  great  blockhouse;  and 
lies  in  a  narrow  valley,  enclosed  by  grassy  hills,  near 
by  the  left  bank  of  the  Laramie,  which  empties  into 
the  North  Platte  about  a  mile  below.  Toward  the 
west  a  fine  background  is  formed  by  the  Black  Hills, 
a  dark  chain  of  mountains  covered  with  evergreen 
trees.  We  crossed  the  Laramie  toward  noon,  and  en- 
camped outside  the  fort.  The  fort  itself  first  at- 
tracted my  attention.  It  lies  on  a  slight  elevation,  and 
is  built  in  a  rectangle  of  about  eighty  by  a  hundred 
feet.  The  outside  is  made  of  cottonwood  logs,  about 
fifteen  feet  high,  hewed  off,  and  wedged  closely  to- 
gether. On  three  sides  there  are  little  towers  on  the 
wall  that  seem  designed  for  watch  and  defense.  In 
the  middle  a  strong  gate,  built  of  blocks,  constitutes 
the  entrance.  Within,  little  buildings  with  flat  roofs 
are  plastered  all  around  against  the  wall,  like  swal- 
lows' nests.     One  is  the    store    house;    another    the 


—  68  — 

theNorth^  smithy;  the  others  are  dwellings  not  unlike  monks' 
prlSVi^^tTog  cells.  A  special  portion  of  the  court  yard  is  occupied 
Laramie  by  thc  so-callcd  horse-pen,  in  which  the  horses  are  con- 
fined at  night.  The  middle  space  is  free,  with  a  tall 
tree  in  it,  on  which  the  flag  is  raised  on  occasions  of 
state.  The  whole  garrison  of  the  fort  consists  of  only 
five  men;  four  Frenchmen  and  a  German.  Some  of 
them  were  married  to  Indian  women,  whose  cleanli- 
ness and  neat  attire  formed  an  agreeable  contrast  to 
the  daughters  of  the  wilderness  whom  we  had  hither- 
to seen.  In  this  connection,  let  me  call  attention  to  a 
mistaken  idea  often  entertained  as  to  these  forts. 
They  are  often  thought  of  as  military  forts,  occupied 
by  regular  troops,  and  under  military  rule,  whereas 
they  are  mere  trading  forts,  built  by  single  trading 
companies,  and  occupied  by  a  handful  of  hired  men 
to  have  a  safe  point  for  storing  their  goods,  from 
which  barter  may  be  carried  on  with  the  Indians.  Such 
forts  exist  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  es- 
tablished by  American  and  English  companies;  but 
nowhere  is  there  a  military  fort  erected  by  the  gov- 
ernment of  either  country.  The  simple  construction, 
as  above  described,  protects  them  adequately  against 
any  attack  on  the  part  of  the  Indians.  Out  of  abund- 
ant caution  some  of  them  have  a  little  cannon  on  the 
wall.  As  far  as  I  know,  there  is  no  fort  on  the  North 
Platte  save  Fort  Laramie;  but  several  American  trad- 
ing companies  have  built  forts  along  the  South  Platte, 
the  Arkansas,  the  Green  River,  and  the  Missouri.  Be- 
yond the  Rocky  Mountains  are  only  English  forts. 


-69- 

Fort  Laramie  was  built  in  1835  by  Robert  Campbell,  {^e North" 
and  was  then  called  Fort  William.  Later,  it  passed  PrllVie^D^g 
into  other  control,  and  was  rechristened  Fort  Laramie  Laramie 
after  one  Laramie,  who  was  killed  here  by  the  In- 
dians. The  custom  of  perpetuating  the  memory  of 
departed  friends  by  transferring  their  names  to  the 
place  where  they  fell,  is  so  habitual  in  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  and  the  occasions  giving  rise  to  it  are 
unfortunately  so  frequent,  that  at  least  half  the  names 
owe  their  origin  to  such  events.  The  fort  is  at  present 
in  possession  of  Piggit,  Papin  and  Jaudron.  In 
many  respects  it  has  a  very  favorable  location.  There 
is  sufficient  wood  in  the  vicinity  and  good  pasture.  A 
few  days'  journey  further  there  is  abundance  of  buf- 
falo and  other  game,  and  the  Platte  from  this  point 
is  navigable  for  small  boats;  at  least  Campbell  has 
already  gone  down  from  here  to  the  Missouri  in  buf- 
falo boats.  Then,  too,  it  is  a  very  suitable  center  for 
trade  with  important  Indian  tribes,  especially  the 
Sioux  and  Crows.  The  last  named  Indians  had  re- 
cently levied  a  small  contribution  from  the  fort,  in 
that  they  had  driven  off  sixteen  horses  grazing  in  the 
vicinity  in  full  daylight  and  in  view  of  two  guards. 
Luckily  the  fort  had  a  superfluity  of  horses,  so  that 
the  loss  was  not  serious.  In  addition  to  horses,  the 
fort  owns  property  that  is  of  very  great  value  In  this 
region ;  that  is,  several  cows.  No  attention  Is  paid  to 
agriculture,  although  the  ground  seems  suitable  for 
it.  Hunting  Is  the  sole  reliance  for  food.  All  we 
found  in  stock  at  that  time  was  dried  buffalo  meat, 


—  70  — 
Journey  up     ßf  ^vhich  WC  took  a  suddIv  with  us.     As  we  stayed 

the  North  i.  i.     j  j 

PraiVi^^Dog  there  the  rest  of  the  day,  several  races  took  place  be- 


-Fort 
Laramie 


tween  our  horses  and  those  of  the  fort;  and  of  course 
there  was  betting  and  swapping  of  horses.  I  swapped 
my  horse,  which  was  somewhat  run  down  by  the  jour- 
ney and  thin,  for  a  swift,  well  fed  Indian  horse 
trained  to  hunt  buffalo.  The  Indian  horses  are  said 
to  have  come  originally  from  Mexico.  They  are  of 
a  small  breed,  and  seldom  can  be  called  handsome; 
but  they  are  very  swift  and  hardy,  and  as  they  know 
no  food  save  grass,  are  much  more  suitable  for  such  a 
journey  than  American  horses,  which  usually  grow 
lean  on  mere  grass.  Still  American  horses,  because 
they  are  larger  and  handsomer,  are  much  sought  after 
by  whites  and  Indians,  and,  when  once  they  are  accli- 
mated, are  superior. 

The  distance  from  the  boundary  of  Missouri  to 
Fort  Laramie,  according  to  our  daily  reckoning, 
amounts  to  755  miles,  and  was  made  by  us  in  six 
weeks.  All  distances  here  can  of  course  only  be  ap- 
proximated. For  this  purpose  we  repeatedly  counted 
the  steps  made  in  a  given  time,  and  found  our  average 
rate  to  be  three  miles  an  hour. 


CHAPTER^     NINE 

JOURNEY   OVER   THE   BLACK 

HILLS— CROSSING  THE 

NORTH   FORK 

TnHE  next  morning  (June  15th),  we  left 
Fort  Laramie  to  journey  again  in  west- 
erly direction  through  the  wilderness. 
Our  way  led  over  the  Black  Hills  above 
mentioned,  leaving  the  Laramie  River 
to  our  left,  and  ascending  the  North 
Fork  at  a  moderate  distance  from  it.  The  North 
Fork  winds  here  through  rocky  walls  so  steep  that  the 
river  is  seldom  in  view,  and  there  is  no  traveling  on 
its  banks.  The  hills  consisted  of  sand  and  lime  stone, 
and  show  here  and  there  a  pine  or  cedar.  To  the 
left  another  high  mountain  chain  is  in  view,  the  Platte 
Mountains,  where,  as  we  afterward  learned,  the 
North  Platte  has  its  source.  On  the  top  of  the  high- 
est mountain  of  this  chain  snow  was  still  lying.  For 
four  days  we  camped  on  little  streams  that  flow  into 
the  North  Fork,  and  found  at  times  very  pleasant 
camping  grounds,  for  instance,  at  Horse  Shoe  Creek, 


—  72  — 
Journey  over  -mhere  wc  rcsted  on  the  second  day.    The  water  was 

the  Black  ■' 

Crossing  the  cool  and  clear,  the  grass  tall  and  luxuriant,  and  a 
North  Fork  j-j^j^,)^  fringe  of  Cottonwood  and  sugar  maples  wound 
along  the  banks.  Moreover,  our  hunters  again 
brought  fresh  buffalo  meat,  no  small  spur  in  arousing 
lively  appreciation  of  romantic  surroundings.  The 
road  was  growing  daily  more  difficult.  Steep  ascents 
and  deep  clefts  and  ravines  often  made  it  necessary  to 
lower  the  carts  with  ropes  and  pull  them  up  again, 
or  else  make  a  wide  circuit.  We  were  visibly  ascend- 
ing. Had  we  not  been  already  convinced  by  the  vio- 
lent current  of  the  Platte  of  our  rapid  ascent,  the 
thinner,  purer  air,  the  broad  sweep  of  our  view  and 
the  change  in  vegetation  would  have  called  it  to  our 
attention.  In  regard  to  the  latter  we  noticed  especial- 
ly two  companions  of  our  journey  that  were  no  more 
to  leave  us,  namely,  cacti,  in  several  species,  and  wild 
sage  or  wild  wormwood  (Artemisia  Columbiensis). 
This  Artemisia  is  found  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  in  sandy  soil,  where  the  grass  grows 
sparsely  or  not  at  all.  It  is  of  varying  size.  Some- 
times it  is  stunted,  and  scarce  a  foot  or  two  high; 
but  at  times  it  attains  the  height  of  a  man,  and  then 
its  stem  is  as  thick  as  an  arm.  The  wood  consists, 
like  that  of  the  vine,  of  many  twisted  fibres,  is  of  no 
use  to  the  carpenter,  but  makes  a  good  fire,  and  holds 
its  glow  very  long.  The  foliage  is  characterized  by 
its  bitterness.  If  any  of  it  gets  into  our  food,  it  Is 
scarce  eatable.  So,  if  fresh  meat  bound  to  the  sad- 
dle has  been  brushed  by  it  in  passing,  the  best  thing 


—  73  — 

to  do  is  to  throw  the  meat  away.     A  bird  that  feeds  {^^^,^0^" 
on  this  plant,  the  so-called  sage  cock  or  cock  of  the  crossing  the 

,.  ,,_  _^.,.  ,,  '11  North  Fork 

plains  ( Fetrao  Uriphasianus) ,  has  precisely  the  same 
taste.  The  bird  is  somewhat  larger  than  a  prairie 
chicken,  to  which  its  resemblance  is  closest,  and  re- 
tains the  repellant  bitter  taste  of  this  plant  in  what- 
ever way  it  be  prepared  for  eating. 

Our  fourth  night  camp  was  our  first  on  the  North 
Platte  since  leaving  Laramie.  The  river  here  was 
not  very  broad.  Several  of  us  bathed,  but  the  water 
was  so  swift  that,  though  we  were  all  good  swim- 
mers, we  could  scarcely  reach  the  opposite  shore. 
The  next  day  we  traveled  along  the  river  over  steep 
hills,  with  little  grass  or  wood.  Toward  noon,  just 
as  we  were  about  to  set  up  our  camp,  I  saw  that  ter- 
ror of  hunters,  the  grizzly  bear.  It  was  a  splendid 
animal,  but  it  ran  away  at  full  speed,  and  our  horses 
were  too  tired  to  make  chase.  We  camped  that  night 
again  by  the  river  on  dirty  loamy  ground.  The  next 
morning  we  were  not  a  little  surprised  to  see  oppo- 
site us,  across  the  river,  a  dozen  Indians,  who  had 
camped  there  all  night.  They  swam  across.  They 
were  Shiennes,  who  gave  us  to  understand  that  they 
were  on  a  horse-stealing  foray  against  the  Crows. 
They  themselves  were  afoot,  as  is  customary  with 
Indians  on  such  raids,  and  we  had  not  the  least 
reason  to  doubt  their  statements.  Nevertheless  we 
were  keenly  on  guard  to  prevent  any  chance  mistake 
of  our  horses  for  those  of  the  Crows.  For  two 
more  days  we  went  along  the  river.     Although  we 


—  74  — 
Journey  over  ouFselvcs  saw  HO  buffalo  hcrds,  our  hunters  regularly 

the  Black  '  . 

Crossing  the  brought  frcsH  meat  into  camp.  One  evening  an  old 
North  Fork  j^^jj  Strayed  near  our  camp.  A  couple  of  novices 
started  after  him,  but  he  fell  only  at  the  twentieth 
shot.  The  wolves  followed  promptly  after  the 
hunters,  and  howled  for  us  all  night  long.  Such  noc- 
turnal music  is  so  common  in  this  wilderness,  espe- 
cially in  the  buffalo  country,  that  I  finally  regretted 
missing  it,  and  found  a  sort  of  enjoyment  in  the  long- 
drawn  wails  of  these  beasts,  which  run  through  all 
the  minor  chords.  Say  distinguishes  four  kinds  of 
wolves  in  America,  namely:  i.  The  common  wolf 
(Canis  lupus).  2.  The  barking  wolf  (Canis  lat- 
rans).  3.  The  dark  wolf  (Canis  Nubilus);  and  4, 
the  black  wolf  {Canis  Lycaon).  The  last  named  I 
have  not  seen  on  this  trip;  the  second  is  common. 
This  wolf  is  smaller  than  the  others,  and  is  remark- 
able for  his  peculiar  howl.  He  begins  with  two  or 
three  barks,  about  like  a  dachs,  and  follows  it  imme- 
diately with  the  howl.  As  he  generally  keeps  near 
buffalo,  and  is  therefore  a  good  omen  for  hunting, 
he  is  also  called  the  Medicine  Wolf.  Although 
wolves  are  seen  daily,  they  are  very  wary.  I  never 
heard  that  they  had  attacked  men;  but  at  night  they 
become  impudent;  they  often  sneak  into  the  midst 
of  the  camp,  and  steal  meat  or  leather  goods.  If  one 
has  shot  buffalo  or  other  game,  they  are  sure  to  be 
lurking  in  the  distance;  they  approach  cautiously  as 
soon  as  one  goes  away  and  reduce  the  animal  to  a 
skeleton  with  marvelous  speed.    They  count  so  secure- 


—  75  — 
ly  on  this  tribute,  that  they  often  follow  the  caravans  {^e  Bi7ck""' 

for   days.  Cros^slng    the 

Our  road  along  the  river  now  became  somewhat 
smoother.  The  ground  was  sandy,  and  covered  with 
many  ant  hills,  composed  of  sand  and  pebbles.  We 
saw  some  elk.  I  found,  too,  a  nest  of  young  mag- 
pies, which  I  had  not  hitherto  seen  in  the  United 
States.  On  the  21st  of  June  we  halted  at  the  river, 
in  order  to  cross.  The  North  Platte  at  this  point  is 
not  as  broad  as  the  South  Platte,  but  just  as  swift.  A 
canoe  of  buffalo  hides  was  soon  constructed,  and  the 
very  next  day  we  crossed  over  without  any  special 
mishap. 


CH  APTE  R^    TEN 

JOURNEY  ALONG  THE  SWEET 

WATERS— THE    W^IND 

RIVER    MOUNTAINS 

W"|E  WENT  furtherup  the  left  bank  of  the 
North  Platte,  about  fifteen  miles.  The 
road  led  over  sandy  rolling  country. 
J  From  one  hill  we  enjoyed  a  magnifi- 
VV  yj  cent  wide  prospect.  Southwestwardly, 
on  our  left,  are  stretched  out  the  Platte 
Mountains,  out  of  which  the  river  here  comes  forth, 
and  toward  the  northwest,  at  a  distance  of  about  one 
hundred  miles,  a  foggy  streak,  in  which  our  older 
traveling  companions  recognized  the  snow  peaks  of 
the  Big  Horn  Mountains.  In  the  vicinity  live  the 
Crows,  a  treacherous  hostile  Indian  tribe,  equally  pro- 
ficient in  stealing  and  scalping.  They  often  rove 
through  the  country  along  the  Platte  and  the  Sweet 
Waters,  which  are  considered  by  the  Indians  as  a 
common  war  ground.  The  ground  over  which  we 
went  this  day  was  highly  permeated  with  salts.  We 
had  seen  this  on  several  occasions  before,  near  the 


—  77  — 

Platte,    and  some   days   back  had   crossed  a   brook  i°"ng7he 
where  water  tasted  quite  like  Epsom  salts.    But  here   waters- 

TheWind 

it  was  very  marked.  We  passed  along  several  salt  ^'^J^^^j^^ 
lakes  in  the  prairie,  all  along  whose  shores  there  lay 
crystallized  Epsom  salt.  At  noon  we  camped  on  the 
river  for  the  last  time.  A  herd  of  buffalo  were  graz- 
ing comfortably  on  the  opposite  shore,  and  were  not 
disturbed  by  our  arrival,  for  the  wind  was  favorable 
to  us.  The  river  twists  here  in  a  southwesterly  direc- 
tion toward  the  Platte  Mountains,  from  which  it 
issues.  Where  it  issues  from  the  mountains  some 
reddish  rocks  arise,  called  the  red  buttes  or  hills. 
Here  we  left  the  river,  to  go  more  northwesterly  to- 
ward the  Sweet  Waters.  Moving  over  monotonous 
sand  hills,  we  reached  at  evening  a  little  brook, 
whose  sandy  bed  had  absorbed  all  the  water;  but  by 
digging  some  feet  we  collected  clear  water  in  ade- 
quate quantity.  During  the  day  we  had  had  thun- 
der storms;  at  night  there  came  a  cold  rain  mingled 
with  snow;  the  next  morning  it  was  unpleasantly 
cold.  The  country  continued  hilly,  sandy,  poor  as  to 
grass,  but  so  much  the  richer  in  sage  bush.  Buffalo 
became  more  and  more  common.  In  the  sandy  soil 
of  this  region  I  found  a  new  strange  animal,  the 
so-called  horn-frog  (Phrynosoma  cornuta).  It  is  a 
kind  of  lizard  with  thick  head  and  body  and  short 
tail.  It  is  of  grayish  color.  Its  whole  length 
amounts  to  three  or  four  inches.     The  whole  back 


-78- 


Journey 

along  the 

Sweet 

■Waters— 

The  AVind 

River 

Mountains 


from  head  to  tail  Is  covered  with  horny  spines.  Down 
the  middle  of  the  back  runs  a  horny  white  comb.  On 
the  back  of  the  head  are  six  great  spines  arranged 
in  semi-circle.  This  thorny  armor  makes  the  little 
beast  resemble  an  alligator  in  miniature.  It  runs  very 
swiftly;  Is  found  only  on  sandy  soil,  and  appears  to 
live  on  insects.  Another  smaller  kind  of  lizard, 
slenderer  and  exceedingly  swift,  erroneously  called 
here  chameleon,  usually  occurs  In  the  neighborhood 
of  the  homed  frog.  Near  the  Sweet  Waters  the 
country  again  becomes  more  level.  Some  weather- 
worn bare  rocks  alone  arise  In  the  midst  of  the  prai- 
rie. The  ground  is  covered  with  decomposed  salt 
tasting  of  alkali,  and  with  some  salt  lakes.  The 
buffalo  seem  specially  fond  of  this  region.  We  drove 
many  herds  before  us.  On  the  evening  of  June 
25th,  we  reached  the  Sweet  Waters,  a  little  stream 
that  forms  the  northern  source  of  the  North  Platte, 
and  which  has  probably  received  Its  name  In  con- 
trast to  the  salty  waters  round  about.  We  pitched 
our  camp  hard  by  an  Isolated  rock,  perhaps  one 
thousand  feet  long,  one  hundred  feet  broad  and  fifty 
to  sixty  feet  high,  consisting  of  Intermingled  granite. 
It  Is  known  by  the  name  of  Rock  Independence,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  so  christened  by  a  party  of 
Americans  who  celebrated  the  Fourth  of  July  here. 
It  Is  regarded  as  a  Rocky  Mountain  album,  as  it 
were.      Many   travelers   write   or   cut   their  names 


Mountains 


—  79  — 

upon  It.     All  round  about  us,  near  and  afar,  rocks  i°ong't^e 
and  mountains  arise.     The  Platte  Mountains  are  on  wafers- 

,_^,  ,  ....  .   ,  .,  The  wind 

our  left.  The  Platte  itself  is  said  to  be  twelve  miles  R>ver 
off.  The  next  morning  we  crossed  the  Sweet  Waters. 
For  six  days  we  ascended  the  river  in  westerly  direc- 
tion, following  it  more  or  less  closely  and  crossing  it 
several  times  to  cut  off  its  meanders.  Our  road  at 
first  was  level  and  passed  through  a  valley,  rather 
narrow  at  the  entrance,  but  gradually  widening, 
which  was  bounded  on  both  sides  by  the  Sweet  Wa- 
ters Mountains.  The  rocks  of  these  mountains  are 
partly  bare,  partly  pine-clad.  On  their  summit  it  is 
said  there  live  many  mountain  sheep  (big  horn,  ar- 
gali,  Ovis  ammon  L),  an  animal  resembling  the  deer 
in  outward  appearance,  only  somewhat  larger,  but 
provided  instead  of  antlers  with  curved  horns  like 
a  ram,  of  which  one  sometimes  weighs  about  thirty 
pounds.  The  Indians  make  their  best  bows  out  of 
these  horns.  The  mountain  sheep  climb  with  ease 
the  steepest  rock  where  they  can  be  followed  only 
with  difficulty.  To  my  vexation  we  did  not  get  sight 
of  a  single  one.  We  ran  across  several  buffalo.  I 
could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  try  my  newly  ac- 
quired horse  at  buffalo  hunting.  I  singled  out  an 
old  bull.  My  horse  soon  caught  up  with  him,  and 
fearlessly  galloped  at  his  left  side,  permitting  me  to 
put  the  pistol  almost  on  Its  breast.  At  the  second 
shot  the  bull  suddenly  turned  upon  me;  but  my  swift 


—  8o^ 


Journey 

along  the 

Sweet 

■Waters— 

The  ■Wind 

River 

Mountains 


horse  carried  me  promptly  out  of  the  vicinity;  and, 
exhausted  by  loss  of  blood,  the  animal  at  the  fourth 
shot  fell  to  the  ground.  It  "was  very  lean,  so  I  only 
took  the  tongue. 

On  the  third  day  (June  28th),  a  ■white  streak  ap- 
peared in  the  -west.  As  wg  rose  higher,  it  assumed 
more  definite  shape.  Some  of  its  shining  points 
changed  gradually  to  higher  and  higher  steep  cliffs 
with  heads  of  ice  and  robes  of  sno'w;  In  a  -word,  sno^vv 
peaks  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  arose  before  us.  It 
was  the  chain  of  the  Wind  River  Mountains,  one 
of  the  steepest  In  this  mighty  mountain  system.  These 
mountains  extend  in  a  northwesterly  direction  with  a 
length  of  eighty  miles  by  a  breadth  of  twenty  to 
thirty.  It  is  said  that  one  of  these  peaks  was  meas- 
ured geometrically  and  barometrically  on  behalf 
of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  that  it  Is  25,000 
feet  high.  As  one  approaches  the  mountains  on  a 
plateau,  to  which  one  gradually  mounts  through  a 
journey  of  a  thousand  miles,  and  so  Is  at  a  consid- 
erable elevation,  it  may  well  be  that  they  do  not 
seem  to  the  eye  as  high  as  they  actually  are;  yet  such 
an  assumption  as  to  their  height,  which  would  put 
them  in  a  class  with  the  Himalayas,  can  scarcely 
be  correct.  Be  that  as  It  may.  It  is  certainly  a  lofty 
and  Imposing  chain  of  mountains,  though  I  miss  the 
romantic  surroundings  of  the  Swiss  Alps,  with  their 
crystal  lakes  and  blooming  valleys  which  group  them- 


—  8i  — 

selves  so  picturesquely  around  the  eternal  glaciers.  i°"^g^^e 
As  we  had  to  so  around  the  southeastern  point  of  the  w"ers- 

°  .  ,         The  Wind 

Wind  River  Mountains,  we  now  took  a  more  south-  River 

Mountains 

western  direction.  The  plain  on  which  we  had  hith- 
erto traveled  changed  gradually  to  a  hilly  country, 
covered  with  sandy  soil  and  little  grass,  but  the  more 
8age  brush,  and  quantities  of  buffalo.  The  geological 
character  is  very  different,  since  we  are  on  the  Sweet 
Waters.  Pure  granite,  basalt,  quartz  and  feldspar 
arc  now  matters  of  daily  observation.  Primitive 
mountains  begin.  We  ascended  continuously.  The 
species  of  cactus  become  rarer,  the  mosses  more  fre- 
quent. Some  plants  occur  here  only  in  stunted  form. 
On  the  sixth  day  (July  ist)  we  left  the  Sweet  Wa- 
ters to  our  right  near  their  source  on  the  eastern  de- 
clivity of  the  Wind  River  Mountains.  Those  are 
the  last  waters  we  pass  which  flow  into  the  Atlantic 
Ocean.  That  same  day  toward  evening  we  reached 
a  little  fresh  spring  that  flows  toward  the  Pacific.  The 
divide  between  these  two  water  systems  is  formed  by 
an  undulating  sandy  prairie.  The  spring  at  which 
we  pitched  our  night  camp  issues  from  under  a  rock 
formed  of  quartz  and  spar.  In  the  vicinity  grew  wil- 
lows, cedars  and  some  birches  (quickenasp) .  Where 
the  water  comes  out  from  under  the  rock  the  ther- 
mometer placed  in  it  sank  to  43.5  degrees  Fahrenheit, 
while  it  stood  in  the  air  at  48  degrees. 

As  supplement,   I  note  the  averages  of  the  ther- 
mometrical  record  of  our  journey,   so   far  of  two 


—  82  — 


Journey 

along  the 

Sweet 

^Vaters— 

The  Wind 

River 

Mountains 


months'  duration,  from  the  borders  of  Missouri  to 
the  divide  between  the  eastern  and  western  waters : 

Vhermometrical  Average  According  to  F. 

At  Sunrise.     Toward  Noon.     At  Sunset. 
In  May..  .  .  53  72  62.3 

In  June.  ...  49  72.5  56.8 

During  all  this  time  we  had  only  very  few  pleas- 
ant days,  but  rain  and  storm  almost  daily.  The  re- 
gion of  rain  now  Is  behind  us;  and — to  use  the  words 
of  our  leader — the  country  where  the  wind  reigns 
is  before  us. 


CHAPTER^     ELEVEN 

THE  YEARLY  RENDEZVOUS 


KÄ 


0"1UR  NEXT  objective  point  was  the  up- 
per Green  River  valley,  which  is  thrust 
like  a  bay  of  prairie  between  the  main 
chain  of  the  Rockies  and  the  projecting 
Wind  River  Mountains,  Our  direc- 
tion was  northeast.  The  road  thither* 
leads  over  sandy  hills  and  plateaus.  The  Wind 
River  Mountains  lay  to  our  right,  permitting  a  closer 
view  of  the  precipitous,  weather-beaten  granite  for- 
mations cut  by  deep  ravines.  As  intervening  bulwark, 
there  were  foothills,  dark  with  evergreens,  but  void 
of  snow.  To  our  left  new  snow  peaks  came  into 
view,  the  Grand  River  Mountains.  We  crossed  sev- 
eral streams,  first  the  Little  Sandy  and  the  Big  Sandy, 
then  the  New  Fork;  all  having  their  sources  in  the 
Wind  River  Mountains  and  flowing  into  the  Green 
River.  The  water  is  clear  and  cool,  the  river  bed 
pebbly.  The  shores  are  usually  fringed  with  wil- 
lows. In  these  little  rivers  there  are,  furthermore, 
denizens  characteristic  of  western  waters.    For,  while 


-84- 
The  Yeari3^    thc  Platte  has  few  fish,  and  little  beside  catfish  are 

Kenciezvous 

found  in  the  other  streams,  many  trout  are  found  on 
this  side.  On  the  second  day  we  found  traces  of 
whites  and  Indians,  that  had  journeyed  ahead  of  us 
through  this  region  a  short  time  before,  probably  to 
the  rendezvous,  which  takes  place  yearly  about  this 
time  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Green  River.  As 
our  destination  was  the  same,  though  our  leader  did 
not  know  precisely  what  place  had  been  chosen  for 
it  this  year,  some  of  our  men  were  sent  out  for  in- 
formation. They  returned  the  next  day  while  we 
were  camping  on  the  New  Fork,  with  two  agents  of 
the  fur  company,  Trips  and  Walker.  These  agents 
were  accompanied  by  their  Indian  wives  and  a  lot  of 
dogs.  The  two  squaws,  quite  passable  as  to  their  fea- 
tures, appeared  in  highest  state.  Their  red  blankets, 
with  the  silk  kerchiefs  on  their  heads,  and  their  gaudy 
embroideries,  gave  them  quite  an  Oriental  appear- 
ance. Like  themselves,  their  horses  were  bedight 
with  embroideries,  beads,  corals,  ribbons  and  little 
bells.  The  bells  were  hung  about  in  such  number  that 
when  riding  in  their  neighborhood,  one  might  think 
one's  self  in  the  midst  of  Turkish  music.  The  squaws, 
however,  behaved  most  properly.  They  took  care 
of  the  horses,  pitched  a  tent,  and  were  alert  for  every 
word  of  their  wedded  lords.  From  the  agents  we 
learned  that  this  year's  meeting  place  had  been  fixed 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Green  River  at  the  angle 
formed  by  its  junction  with  Horse  Creek.  We  were 
now  about  a  day's  journey  from  the  place.     Starting 


-85- 

off  in  company  in  the  afternoon,  we  covered,  at  a  l^^^^^^'^^ 
more  rapid  pace  than  usual,  about  twelve  miles,  and 
then  camped  on  a  branch  of  the  New  Fork,  whose 
shores  were  framed  with  fine  pines.  It  was  the 
Fourth  of  July,  the  great  holiday  of  the  United 
States.  Our  camp,  however,  presented  its  humdrum 
daily  appearance.  We  stretched  out  around  the  fires, 
smoked  and,  in  expectation  of  what  the  morrow 
would  bring,  went  quietly  asleep.  The  next  morning 
we  started  early,  and  reached  toward  noon  the  Green 
River,  so  long  desired.  The  Green  River  (Colo- 
rado of  the  West)  rises  in  the  northwestern  slope  of 
the  Wind  River  Mountains,  flows  in  southwestern 
direction,  and  empties  into  the  Gulf  of  California. 
Where  we  first  saw  it,  it  is  a  clear,  rippling  stream- 
let, abounding  in  trout;  neither  very  broad,  nor  very 
deep;  but  later  on  it  becomes  a  broad,  rushing  stream. 
Its  navigation  is  said  to  present  enormous  difficulties. 
We  crossed  the  river,  and  were  then  in  the  acute  an- 
gle formed  by  it  and  the  Horse  Creek  ( a  brook  com- 
ing from  the  northwest  and  emptying  here  into  the 
Green  River).  The  space  between  is  level;  the 
ground  a  loamy  sand.  The  camping  place  was  about 
two  miles  above  the  Horse  Creek,  along  the  right 
bank  of  the  Green  River.  The  plain  between  the 
two  streams  Is  here  about  three  miles  broad.  The 
rendezvous  has  repeatedly  been  held  here.  Accord- 
ing to  observations  formerly  made,  the  place  is  in 
longitude  107  degrees  12  minutes  west,  and  between 
44  and  45  degrees  north  latitude.    So  we  were  about 


—  86  — 

Rendervo'JT  ^^"^  dcgrccs  north  of  St.  Louis.  The  journey  which 
we  had  made  from  the  border  of  Missouri,  accord- 
ing to  our  rough  calculation,  was  near  1,200  miles. 

We  reached  the  camping  place.  What  first  struck 
our  eye  was  several  long  rows  of  Indian  tents 
(lodges),  extending  along  the  Green  River  for  at 
least  a  mile.  Indians  and  whites  were  mingled  here 
in  varied  groups.  Of  the  Indians  there  had  come 
chiefly  Snakes,  Flatheads  and  Nezperces,  peaceful 
tribes,  living  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Of  whites 
the  agents  of  the  different  trading  companies  and  a 
quantity  of  trappers  had  found  their  way  here,  visit- 
ing this  fair  of  the  wilderness  to  buy  and  to  sell,  to 
renew  old  contracts  and  to  make  new  ones,  to  make 
arrangements  for  future  meetings,  to  meet  old 
friends,  to  tell  of  adventures  they  had  been  through, 
and  to  spend  for  once  a  jolly  day.  These  trappers, 
the  "Knights  without  fear  and  without  reproach," 
are  such  a  peculiar  set  of  people  that  it  is  necessary 
to  say  a  little  about  them.  The  name  in  itself  indi- 
cates their  occupation.  They  either  receive  their  out- 
fit, consisting  of  horses,  beaver  traps,  a  gun,  powder 
and  lead,  from  trading  companies,  and  trap  for  small 
wages,  or  else  they  act  on  their  own  account,  and  are 
then  called  freemen.  The  latter  is  more  often  the 
case.  In  small  parties  they  roam  through  all  the 
mountain  passes.  No  rock  is  too  steep  for  them; 
no  stream  too  swift.  Withal,  they  are  In  constant 
danger  from  hostile  Indians,  whose  delight  it  is  to 
ambush  such  small  parties,  and  plunder  them,  and 


-87- 

scalp  them.  Such  victims  fall  every  year.  One  of  Rend^"o^ 
our  fellow  travelers,  who  had  gone  to  the  mountains 
for  the  first  time  nine  years  ago  with  about  one  hun- 
dred men,  estimated  that  by  this  time  half  the  num- 
ber had  fallen  victims  to  the  tomahawks  of  the  In- 
dians. But  this  daily  danger  seems  to  exercise  a 
magic  attraction  over  most  of  them.  Only  with  re- 
luctance does  a  trapper  abandon  his  dangerous  craft; 
and  a  sort  of  serious  home-sickness  seizes  him  when 
he  retires  from  his  mountain  life  to  civilization.  In 
manners  and  customs,  the  trappers  have  borrowed 
much  from  the  Indians.  Many  of  them,  too,  have 
taken  Indian  women  as  wives.  Their  dress  is  gener- 
ally of  leather.  The  hair  of  the  head  is  usually  al- 
lowed to  grow  long.  In  place  of  money,  they  use 
beaver  skins,  for  which  they  can  satisfy  all  their  needs 
at  the  forts  by  way  of  trade.  A  pound  of  beaver 
skins  is  usually  paid  for  with  four  dollars  worth  of 
goods;  but  the  goods  themselves  are  sold  at  enor- 
mous prices,  so-called  mountain  prices.  A  pint  of 
meal,  for  instance,  costs  from  half  a  dollar  to  a  dol- 
lar; a  pint  of  coffee-beans,  cocoa  beans  or  sugar,  two 
dollars  each;  a  pint  of  diluted  alcohol  (the  only  spir- 
itous  liquor  to  be  had),  four  dollars;  a  piece  of 
chewing  tobacco  of  the  commonest  sort,  which  is  usu- 
ally smoked,  Indian  fashion,  mixed  with  herbs,  one  to 
two  dollars.  Guns  and  ammunition,  bear  traps,  blan- 
kets, kerchiefs,  and  gaudy  finery  for  the  squaws,  are 
also  sold  at  enormous  profit.  At  the  yearly  rendez- 
vous the  trappers  seek  to  indemnify  themselves  for 


—  88  — 

The  Yearly^  thc  suffcrings  and  privations  of  a  year  spent  in  the 
wilderness.  With  their  hairy  bank  notes,  the  beaver 
skins,  they  can  obtain  all  the  luxuries  of  the  moun- 
tains, and  live  for  a  few  days  like  lords.  Coffee  and 
chocolate  is  cooked;  the  pipe  is  kept  aglow  day  and 
night;  the  spirits  circulate;  and  whatever  is  not  spent 
in  such  ways  the  squaws  coax  out  of  them,  or  else 
it  is  squandered  at  cards.  Formerly  single  trappers 
on  such  occasions  have  often  wasted  a  thousand  dol- 
lars. But  the  days  of  their  glory  seem  to  be  past,  for 
'  constant  hunting  has  very  much  reduced  the  number 

of  beavers.  This  diminution  in  the  beaver  catch  made 
itself  noticeable  at  this  year's  rendezvous  in  the 
quieter  behavior  of  the  trappers.  There  was  little 
drinking  of  spirits,  and  almost  no  gambling.  An- 
other decade  perhaps  and  the  original  trapper  will 
have  disappeared  from  the  mountains. 

The  Indians  who  had  come  to  the  meeting  were 
no  less  interesting  than  the  trappers.  There  must 
have  been  some  thousands  of  them.  Their  tents  are 
made  of  buffalo  hides,  tanned  on  both  sides  and 
sewed  together,  stretched  in  cone  shape  over  a  dozen 
poles,  that  are  leaned  against  each  other,  their  tops 
crossing.  In  front  and  on  top  this  leather  can  be 
thrown  back,  to  form  door  and  chimney.  The  tents 
are  about  twelve  feet  high  and  twenty  feet  in  circum- 
ference at  the  ground,  and  give  sufficient  protection 
in  any  kind  of  weather.  I  visited  many  tents,  partly 
out  of  curiosity,  partly  to  barter  for  trifles,  and 
sought  to  make  myself  intelligible  in  the  language  of 


-89- 

signs  as  far  as  possible.  An  army  of  Indian  dogs  l^^^.H^^ 
very  much  resembling  the  wolf,  usually  beset  the  en- 
trance. From  some  tents  comes  the  sound  of  music. 
A  virtuoso  beats  a  sort  of  kettle  drum  with  bells 
around  with  all  his  might,  and  the  chorus  accom- 
panies him  with  strange  monotone  untrained  sounds 
that  showed  strong  tendency  to  the  minor  chords. 
A  similar  heart-rending  song  drew  me  to  a  troop 
of  squaws  that  were  engrossed  in  the  game  of  "the 
hand,"  so  popular  with  the  Indians.  Some  small 
object,  a  bit  of  wood,  for  instance,  is  passed  from 
hand  to  hand  among  the  players  seated  in  a  circle; 
and  it  is  some  one's  part  to  guess  in  whose  hands 
the  object  is.  During  the  game  the  chorus  stead- 
ily sings  some  song  as  monotonous  as  those  to  which 
bears  dance.  But  the  real  object  is  to  gamble  in 
this  way  for  some  designated  prize.  It  is  a  game 
of  hazard.  In  this  case,  for  example,  a  pile  of  beads 
and  corals,  which  lay  in  the  midst  of  the  circle,  was 
the  object  in  question.  Men  and  women  are  so  car- 
ried away  by  the  game,  that  they  often  spend  a  whole 
day  and  night  at  it.  Other  groups  of  whites  and 
Indians  were  engaged  in  barter.  The  Indians  had 
for  the  trade  chiefly  tanned  skins,  moccasins,  thongs 
of  buffalo  leather  or  braided  buffalo  hair,  and  fresh 
or  dried  buffalo  meat.  They  have  no  beaver  skins. 
The  articles  that  attracted  them  most  in  exchange 
were  powder  and  lead,  knives,  tobacco,  cinnabar, 
gaily  colored  kerchiefs,  pocket  mirrors  and  all  sorts 
of  ornaments.     Before  the  Indian  begins  to  trade  he 


—  go  — 

Rend^zvo,^  demands  sight  of  everything  that  may  be  offered  by 
the  other  party  to  the  trade.  If  there  is  something 
there  that  attracts  him,  he,  too,  will  produce  his 
wares,  but  discovers  very  quickly  how  much  or  how 
little  they  are  coveted.  If  he  himself  is  not  willed 
to  dispose  of  some  particular  thing,  he  obstinately 
adheres  to  his  refusal,  though  ten  times  the  value 
be  offered  him.  The  peltry  bought  from  the  Indians 
must  be  carefully  beaten  and  aired,  at  peril  of  having 
objectionable  troops  billeted  on  you.  The  Indians, 
accustomed  to  every  kind  of  uncleanliness,  seem  to 
have  a  special  predilection  for  a  certain  kind  of  do- 
mestic animal,  and  even  to  consider  it  a  delicacy.  So, 
for  instance,  I  have  repeatedly  seen  an  old  granddam 
summering  before  the  tent  with  her  gray-haired 
spouse,  and  busily  picking  the  "heavy  cavalry"  from 
his  head.  But  the  fingers  that  deftly  caught  the  pris- 
oner with  equal  deftness  carried  him  to  the  mouth, 
where  the  uphappy  creature  was  buried  alive.  Cha- 
cun  a  son  gout! 

The  rendezvous  usually  lasts  a  week.  Then  the 
different  parties  move  off  to  their  destinations  and 
the  plain  that  today  resounded  with  barbarous  mu- 
sic, that  was  thronged  with  people  of  both  races,  with 
horses  and  dogs,  returns  to  its  old  quiet,  interrupted 
only  now  and  then  by  the  muffled  roar  of  the  buffalo 
and  the  howl  of  the  wolf.  As  yet  I  had  had  indefi- 
nite plans  as  to  how  far  I  should  extend  my  trip.  The 
fur  company  which  we  had  joined  intended  resting 
in  the  vicinity  for  some  weeks,  and  then  returning 


—  91  — 

with  a  cargo  of  furs  to  the  borders  of  Missouri  on  l^^J^H'^^ 
the  same  road  by  which  we  had  come  up  here.  The 
greater  part  of  the  rest  of  our  company  planned 
to  go  to  the  Columbia  River;  some,  too,  from  there 
to  California.  The  latter  scheme  attracted  me  par- 
ticularly. I  thought  of  getting  to  the  Columbia  in 
some  months,  going  to  California  in  the  fall,  spend- 
ing the  winter  there,  and  returning  in  the  spring  by 
way  of  Santa  Fe  to  the  United  States.  I  therefore 
joined  that  party.  Of  late  the  temperature  had  been 
pretty  high  at  noon;  the  nights,  on  the  other  hand, 
cool.  For  the  first  time  I  felt  somewhat  unwell,  but 
not  enough  so  to  prevent  a  further  journey.  The 
most  difficult  part  of  our  trip,  the  crossing  of  the 
main  chain  of  the  mountains,  still  lay  before  us. 
Capt.  Bonneville  had  already  penetrated  to  the  Green 
River  valley  with  wagons ;  but,  as  far  as  I  know,  no 
attempt  has  as  yet  been  made  to  go  over  the  moun- 
tains themselves  with  them,  but  horses  and  mules 
alone  are  used  for  transportation  of  baggage. 


CHAPTER^    TWELVE 

THE  CROSSING  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS— 
THE  GRIZZLY  BEAR 


I 


i^N  JULY  loth  we  left  the  Green  River 
and  the  rendezvous.     Our  party  con- 


J 


sisted  of  the  former  travehng  compan- 
ions, of  Captain  Armedinger,  the  agent 
VV  Ji  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  at  Fort 
r!~f_*l_U  Hall  on  the  Snake  River,  who  had  vis- 
ited the  rendezvous  with  about  a  dozen  of  his  men» 
of  some  trappers  going  back  again  to  their  craft, 
and  of  several  hundred  Indians,  chiefly  Flatheads,  on 
their  return  to  their  home  across  the  mountains.  The 
mixed  procession  presented  indeed  an  original  appear- 
ance. The  inhabitants  of  a  great  city  would  give 
much  to  see  such  a  caravan  passing  through  their 
streets.  In  motley  confusion  whites  and  Indians, 
squaws  and  children,  scurried  past  each  other.  The 
men  let  their  eyes  rove  about  in  search  of  game,  and 
as  soon  as  a  shy  antelope  came  in  view,  a  great  blood- 
thirsting  gang  rushed  after  it,  to  return  after  some 
time  generally  without   any  success.      The  squaws. 


—  93  — 

who  must  attend  to  the  packing,  rattled  past  us  with  J/\he""^'"^ 
their  long  tent  poles.  Anon  they  would  stop  to  rear-  TheOrlLziy 
range  the  pack,  to  gather  herbs  and  roots,  or  to  quiet 
the  babies.  The  position  of  the  latter  can  hardly  be 
called  very  pleasant.  The  Indian  women  carry  their 
nurslings  in  a  case  of  buffalo  hide  consisting  of  a  long 
leather  piece  with  a  projection  below  as  foot  rest.  On 
this  back  piece  the  youngster  is  laid  flat.  In  front  is 
an  arched  piece  of  leather  fastened  to  both  sides  of 
the  back  of  the  case,  enclosing  the  whole  body  from 
the  neck  to  the  feet.  Only  the  uncovered  head  is 
free,  protruding  from  this  little  box.  The  sight  in- 
evitably calls  to  mind  the  figure  of  Egyptian  mum- 
mies. In  walking,  this  little  papoose  case  with  its 
contents  is  thrown  over  the  back  and  held  with  a 
strap  over  the  forehead  or  chest  of  the  mother.  But 
in  riding  it  is  bound  to  one  side  of  the  saddle,  and 
the  little  head  nods  in  time  to  the  trot  or  gallop  of 
the  horse.  As  soon  as  the  child  can  sit  alone,  it  Is 
freed  from  its  prison  house  and  is  fastened  to  the 
horse,  wrapped  in  buffalo  hide.  The  first  thing  for 
which  it  learns  to  grasp  Is  the  bridle  or  the  whip.  So 
it  Is  no  wonder  that  the  Indians  are  all  born  riders  and 
that  the  squaws  have  usually  a  better  seat  a-horseback 
than  white  men.  The  direction  we  took  to  cross  the 
mountains  was  at  first  southwest,  and  afterwards 
northwest.  The  chain  in  front  of  us,  which  we  have 
to  cross,  is  much  lower  than  the  Wind  River  Moun- 
tains. No  more  snow  peaks  tower  out  of  it;  only 
patches  of  snow  can  be  seen  here  and  there,  which 


—  94  — 

Jfthf*^"*^'"^  probably  wholly  melt  away  later  in  the  summer.  The 
TheGrTz^ir  n^ked,  jagged  forms  of  rock  have  also  disappeared; 
and  in  their  stead  we  have  an  even,  continuous, 
thickly  wooded  mountain  chain,  with  narrow  valleys 
and  ravines,  from  which  cool  mountain  streams  gush 
forth.  This  chain  stretches  in  a  rather  straight  line 
from  north  to  south,  and  then,  forming  an  acute  an- 
gle at  the  southern  end,  extends  northwestwardly  be- 
tween the  Bear  River  and  the  Snake  River.  On  the 
eastern  slope  of  these  mountains  several  brooks  arise 
which  all  pour  Into  the  Green  River;  from  the  north- 
western slope  come  the  waters  which  flow  toward  the 
Bear  River.  We  descended  about  eighty  miles  in 
southwestern  course  along  the  eastern  slope,  and 
crossed  the  acute  angle  above  mentioned  to  reach  the 
northwestern  slope.  On  the  first  day  we  made  only 
eight  miles.  We  crossed  Horse  Creek  and  camped 
on  Lead  Creek.  The  road  led  over  plateaus  toward 
the  mountains.  The  next  morning  we  were  still  in 
similar  country,  but  at  noon  we  reached  a  little  mea- 
dow, enclosed  by  steep  heights,  through  which  mean- 
ders a  rippling  brook  with  cool  water.  From  now  on 
we  had  to  wind  our  way  through  wooded  hills.  We 
generally  followed  the  course  of  brooks  through  nar- 
row ravines,  on  whose  steep  sides  the  animals  had  to 
climb  in  single  file  In  a  long  line.  On  both  sides  were 
acclivities,  often  very  steep,  overgrown  with  heavy 
pine  and  cottonwood.  At  times  we  had  to  clamber 
over  the  mountains  themselves  through  thick  pine  tim- 
ber to  get  from  one  ravine  to  another.    The  geologi- 


Bear 


—  95  — 

cal  formation  was  primitive  throughout.  There  was  J/^'he'"*^'"^ 
particularly  much  basalt.  Here  and  there,  too,  one  TheGr1Lzi7 
finds  traces  of  that  same  lava  which  we  later  found 
spread  over  great  areas.  The  vegetation  was  rather 
luxuriant.  A  quantity  of  wild  flax  particularly  struck 
us.  The  scenery  was  generally  wild  and  romantic, 
but  I  was  unable  to  enjoy  its  beauties,  for  I  had  felt 
somewhat  unwell  even  at  the  Green  River.  With  the 
hope  that  traveling  would  soon  restore  me,  I  had 
forborne  as  yet  to  make  use  of  the  medicines  I  had 
with  me.  But  the  symptoms  became  worse.  I  feared 
that  I  was  getting  a  severe  bilious  fever,  and  felt 
myself  obliged  to  make  up  for  my  omission.  On  the 
fourth  day  I  felt  so  weak  that  during  the  afternoon 
I  could  hardly  keep  my  seat  on  the  horse.  So  I  let 
the  whole  train  pass  me,  tied  my  horse  and  threw 
myself  on  the  ground,  indifferent  as  to  what  might 
become  of  me.  Complete  listlessness  possessed  me. 
The  whole  nation  of  Blackfeet  might  have  swarmed 
around  me;  I  would  not  have  stirred  from  the  spot. 
I  soon  fell  into  a  feverish  sleep.  My  faithful  dog 
(I  had  a  young  German  hunting  dog  with  me),  hav- 
ing missed  me  in  the  caravan,  had  in  the  meanwhile 
returned  to  me.  When  I  woke  the  sun  was  setting. 
My  mule  had  torn  himself  loose,  and  thrown  off  his 
pack,  but  was  still  close  by.  I  felt  a  little  stronger, 
packed  up  once  more  and  followed  the  trail  of  the 
caravan.  I  had  ridden  some  miles,  when  one  of  my 
traveling  companions,  who  in  the  meanwhile  had 
pitched  their  night  camp  and  then  missed  me  for  the 


-96- 

^the"^"^^'"^  first  time,  came  to  meet  me.  The  camp  was  about 
TheGHz^iiT  three  miles  away.  We  reached  it  that  evening,  hav- 
ing seen  on  the  way  a  grizzly  bear  that  ran  away 
from  us.  The  camp  was  on  Smith's  Fork,  the  first 
water  on  the  northwestern  slope,  which  direction  we 
followed  from  now  on.  The  character  of  the  country 
remained  substantially  the  same.  We  had  constantly 
dense  pine  forests  about  us ;  but  the  cottonwoods  had 
disappeared.  On  the  fifth  day  we  reached  Thomas 
Fork,  on  whose  banks  great  quantities  of  pure,  good- 
tasting  common  salt  were  lying.  Most  of  us  took 
along  a  supply.  Such  deposits  of  salt  are  said  to 
occur  at  several  other  places  in  the  mountains;  so  this 
most  precious  of  condiments  is  not  very  dear  there. 
At  noon  next  day  we  reached  Tullick's  Fork.  On  the 
road  a  grizzly  bear  was  shot.  As  this  dreaded  ani- 
mal will  cut  a  figure  several  times  in  the  adventures 
of  our  journey,  I  will  here  add  some  remarks  about  it. 
The  grizzly  bear  (Ursus  horrihUis,  Ord.)  is  dis- 
tinguished from  other  members  of  the  bear  family 
by  the  almost  straight  profile  of  his  face  and  by  his 
longer  claws.  The  hair,  short  on  the  forehead  and 
long  and  thick  on  the  rest  of  the  body,  shows  a  pe- 
culiar mixture  of  white,  brown  and  black,  with  many 
shadings.  The  ears  are  short  and  rounded;  the  fore- 
head somewhat  convex.  The  eyes  are  very  small. 
The  short  tail  is  hidden  in  the  shaggy  hair.  The 
curved  claws  are  three  to  five  inches  long.  The 
whole  length  of  the  full  grown  bear  is  about  ten 
feet;  his  height,  three  to  four  feet;  his  weight,  seven 


Bear 


—  97  — 

hundred  to  eight  hundred  pounds.  He  cannot  climb  ofthe'^"**'"' 
trees  like  the  black  bear,  but  has  fearful  strength  and  Th" cruzir 
dexterity.  He  often  drags  a  whole  buffialo  for  some 
distance,  and  runs  almost  as  fast  as  a  horse.  He 
lives  partly  on  meat,  partly  on  fruits  and  roots.  He 
is  found  oftener  on  the  eastern  than  on  the  western 
side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  When  he  is  hungry 
or  has  been  irritated  he  attacks  whatever  comes  in  his 
way.  One  blow  of  his  paw  is  enough  to  knock  a  man 
down.  But  under  other  circumstances  he  runs  away 
from  man,  and  defends  himself  only  when  pursued. 
With  such  qualities  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  is  the 
dread  of  hunters.  A  bullet  through  brain  or  heart 
will  end  him,  but  In  all  other  parts  of  the  body  he 
survives  numerous  wounds.  A  good  hunter  there- 
fore, does  not  shoot  until  he  is  within  ten  or  twenty 
feet  of  him.  When  the  females  are  with  young  they 
live  very  retired,  so  that  I  have  never  heard  of  a 
hunter  that  shot  a  pregnant  grizzly  she  bear.  The 
meat  of  the  grizzly  is  very  palatable.  Along  the 
back  there  is  solid  white  fat,  a  hand  thick.  The  griz- 
zly we  found  on  this  occasion  was  still  young.  The 
dogs  of  the  Indians  discovered  him  In  a  thicket,  but 
he  wouldn't  budge  from  It.  The  Indians  surrounded 
him  on  horseback,  and  shot  at  him.  Whenever  he 
assumed  a  threatening  attitude,  they  all  ran  away. 
The  dogs,  however,  seemed  to  check  his  anger.  He 
would  not  leave  his  hiding  place.  Finally  one  of  our 
hunters  approached  within  ten  feet  of  him,  and  laid 
him  low  with  a  single  bullet. 


Bear 


-98- 

Jf>'^«crossing  From  Tullick's  Fork  we  entered  upon  more  open 
TheGdzziT  country.  The  western  slope  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains has  no  more  deep  valleys  than  the  eastern,  but 
passes  inperceptlbly  into  broad  plateaus.  In  the  aft- 
ernoon we  crossed  over  a  treeless,  rather  level  prairie 
to  the  Bear  River,  and  encamped  there.  The 
Bear  River  rises  in  the  Eastern  Mountains,  a  chain 
toward  the  south,  goes  in  a  semi-circle  first  north- 
ward, then  down  northwestwardly  and  empties  into 
the  Great  Salt  Lake  (also  called  Lake  Bonneville). 
It  is  a  clear  stream,  not  very  wide  or  deep.  Mostly 
willows  grow  on  its  banks.  My  illness  was  by  this 
time  pretty  well  subdued,  though  I  felt  very  weak  for 
some  weeks.  Several  of  our  company  also  were 
unwell,  the  cause  for  which  could  probably  be  found 
in  the  hot  days  and  cool  nights,  the  drinking  of  cold 
mountain  water,  and  the  eating  of  dried  meat,  which 
we  had  to  eat  for  want  of  fresh.  An  emetic  or  pur- 
gative, promptly  administered,  usually  brought 
speedy  relief. 

On  the  seventh  day  we  went  up  the  right  shore  of 
the  Bear  River  by  a  fairly  level  and  open  road  and 
encamped  that  evening  on  its  banks.  Our  night 
camp  was  at  too  attractive  a  place  to  be  merely  men- 
tioned; for  we  were  at  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
spots  in  the  whole  mountain  country — at  the  Beer 
Spring,  so  well  known  to  every  mountain  traveler. 


IL.J 


CHAPTER^    THIRTEEN 

THE  BEER  SPRING— JOURNEY  TO 
FORT  HALL 

ATS  THERE  are  persons  whose  expression 
fascinates  and  wins  us  through  some- 
thing that  we  keenly  feel  but  cannot 
clearly  understand,  so  is  it  also  true  of 
some  natural  scenes.  Such  an  impres- 
sion took  possession  of  me  at  first  view 
of  the  so-called  Beer  Spring.  I  have  looked  on  finer 
and  more  majestic  scenes,  but  never  found  a  more 
home-like  place  than  this  valley,  produced  out  of  the 
wrecks  of  prior  geological  revolutions,  or  one  on 
which  Nature  had  bestowed  more  of  everlasting 
peace.  Surrounded  by  banks  of  lava,  numberless 
mineral  springs  bubble  forth  out  of  the  calcined 
ground;  a  charming  cedar  grove  invites  the  weary 
wanderer  to  its  shades  and  the  clear  babbling  Bear 
River  rolls  its  ripples  through  the  valley  of  peace. 

We  approached  the  valley  from  the  east  on  the 
seventh  day  after  leaving  Green  River  (on  July 
i6th) .    The  way  thither  was  sprinkled  with  scattered 


—  lOO^ 

The  Beer       pieccs  of  lavE,  and  satisfied  us  that  we  were  on  the 

Spring—  ^ 

Fo"rt"Han°  ^^8^  ^^  ^^^  socallcd  great  lava  plain  which  is  said 
to  stretch  in  northwesterly  direction  about  one  hun- 
dred miles  across  the  Snake  River. 

This  lava  consists  of  grayish  black,  porous,  very 
heavy  and  hard  pieces,  varying  much  in  size,  some- 
times covering  the  ground  in  flat  layers,  sometimes 
however  in  walls  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high  and  several 
hundred  feet  in  length,  going  down  vertically  on  one 
side  and  running  back  to  the  level  on  the  other  in 
one  connected  mass.  Nowhere  in  this  region  could 
I  find  anything  like  craters  to  whose  extinct  volcanic 
activity  in  prior  ages  these  results  could  be  ascribed. 
They  seemed  rather  to  have  originated  in  so-called 
earth  fires.  The  neighborhood  of  Beer  Spring  forms 
a  center  of  this  land  of  slags.  At  least  I  have  not 
seen  elsewhere  these  scoriae,  lying  flat  as  well  as  built 
in  walls,  more  frequent  or  more  characteristic  of  the 
country.  About  Beer  Spring  the  lava  bed  is  covered 
with  a  very  white  potter's  clay.  Out  of  a  hill  formed 
of  this  clay,  the  white  clay  hill,  arises  a  clear  fresh 
brook  that  flows  into  the  Bear  River.  About  half 
a  mile  off  is  the  bottom  of  this  valley  abounding  in 
springs.  It  lies  in  44°  north  latitude  and  109"  west 
longitude,  on  the  eastern  bank  of  Bear  River.  It  is 
shaped  like  an  amphitheater.  On  the  south  it  is 
bounded  by  the  Bear  River,  running  from  east  to 
west,  and  by  hills  beyond  the  river,  covered  with 
pine;  on  the  three  other  sides  it  is  enclosed  by  a  chain 
of  low  sandy,  cone-shaped  hills,  in  part  bare,  in  part 


—  lOI  — 

crowned  with  pine  and  cedar.  The  valley  thus  en-  Ip^i^^^ 
closed  is  half  a  mile  to  a  mile  in  diameter,  and  cov-  FoVt'Han" 
ered  as  to  the  greater  part  with  a  cedar  grove.  This 
evergreen  cedar  (Juniperus  Virginiana)  is  the  same 
which  is  also  found  in  the  eastern  parts  of  the  United 
States.  It  is  only  found  in  sandy  soil  on  low  mountains 
or  the  slopes  of  higher  ones.  It  tends  rather  to  thick- 
ness and  breadth  than  to  height,  and  is  never  crowd- 
ed, though  forming  little  woods.  Unfortunately 
travelers  have  cut  down  and  burned  many  trees  of 
this  grove.  Its  total  destruction  could  rob  the  val- 
ley of  one  of  its  most  precious  ornaments.  I  fixed 
my  camp  under  an  old  cedar,  near  one  of  the  springs, 
that  here  bubble  up  from  the  ground.  Exhausted 
by  the  burden  and  heat  of  the  day,  we  all  refreshed 
ourselves  with  this  delicious  draught.  It  was  a  cool, 
sparkling  water,  slightly  chalybeate  to  the  taste,  with 
cheering  and  invigorating  effect  on  the  nervous  sys- 
tem. So  far  as  I  could  determine  without  chemical 
analysis,  it  is  some  acid  of  iron  with  abundant  car- 
bonic acid  and  slight  admixture  of  salts.  Addition 
of  a  little  sugar  and  tartaric  acid  made  it  effervesce 
rapidly;  in  quiet  condition,  the  carbonic  acid  escaped 
in  little  pearly  bubbles.  This  pearling  and  efferves- 
cing has  given  the  water  the  prosaic  name  of  Beer 
Spring,  since  the  term  beer  is  in  general  use  for  all 
effervescing  liquids.  These  springs  appear  either 
singly  in  perpendicularly  walled  openings  out  of  the 
earth,  about  a  foot  in  circumference  and  several  feet 
deep;  or  else  several  of  them  form  a  common  basin. 


—  102  — 

The  Beer       'jf  Hc  watcF  secms  to  bc  the  same  in  all  of  them.     On 

Spring — 

Fort"HaM°  ^^6  margin  of  these  springs  there  is  usually  a  deposit 
of  a  red-brown  oxide  of  iron,  and  various  limestone 
formations  with  petrefactions  are  in  the  vicinity.  The 
bottom  of  the  spring  is  a  soft  mud.  The  water  level 
seems  to  be  the  same  in  all  of  them.  They  have  no 
outlet,  although  they  are  obviously  in  subterranean 
connection  with  each  other,  as  well  as  with  the  Bear 
River,  close  by.  For  even  in  the  river  itself  a  num- 
ber of  such  springs  are  seen  to  bubble  up,  and  the 
stones  on  the  shore,  that  are  washed  by  these  little 
fountains,  are  also  coated  with  a  red-brown  crust. 
Several  of  these  springs,  shaded  from  the  sun,  which 
I  tested  with  the  thermometer,  showed,  all  of  them, 
a  temperature  of  54°  F.,  while  the  air  in  the  shade 
stood  at  76°.  A  warm  spring,  some  thousands  of 
feet  lower  down  the  river,  and  close  by  it,  deserves 
special  mention.  The  spring  issues  from  a  block  of 
lime,  which  it  formed  itself,  in  all  probability.  In  the 
course  of  time.  The  stream,  as  thick  as  an  arm, 
spouts  out  in  abrupt  pulsations,  and  runs  into  the 
river  over  the  rock  which  is  coated  with  oxide  of  iron 
and  white  crystals  of  salt.  With  the  air  at  a  tem- 
perature of  76°  F.,  this  water  showed  84°.  Its  taste 
was  like  that  of  the  cold  springs,  only  weaker.  About 
six  feet  off  are  two  smaller  openings,  one  of  which  is 
obstructed,  while  the  other  is  still  open.  From  the 
latter  there  issues  with  puffing  noise,  also  in  spurts, 
which  are  not  timed,  however,  with  those  of  the 
water,  a  gas  mingled  with  vapor.     This  gas  has  a 


— 103  — 

somewhat  pungent  and  benumbing  odor.     Some  of  Jp^^nl""" 
my  companions  thought  it  weak  sulphurated  hydro-  F°oVt"Han° 
gen;  to  me  it  seemed  merely  carbonic  acid  gas.     The 
puffing  noise  deceptively  resembles  the  well-known 
sound  of  an  engine,  for  which  reason  is  also  known 
by  the  name  "Steamboat." 

Gladly  would  I  have  spent  some  time  in  this  most 
interesting  valley,  but  my  companions,  less  enthusi- 
astic than  I,  insisted  on  pushing  on;  and  so  we  left 
it  the  next  morning.  On  our  seven-day  journey  from 
the  Green  River  to  the  Beer  Spring  we  had  covered 
almost  two  hundred  miles.  Many  Indians,  for  whom 
we  traveled  too  rapidly,  had  remained  behind.  Here 
our  company  divided  again.  The  greater  part  of 
them  went  northwestwardly  to  Fort  Hall  on  the 
Snake  River,  about  fifty  or  sixty  miles  distant;  while 
about  a  dozen  others  traveled  northwardly  to  hunt, 
and  then  also  go,  with  fresh  provisions  of  meat,  to 
Fort  Hall.  The  latter  party  consisted  of  my  old 
traveling  companions  that  intended  to  go  to  the  Col- 
umbia River.  I  joined  them.  In  the  mountains 
themselves  we  had  seen  no  game  save  some  grizzly 
bears;  and  so  had  lived  on  the  dried  meat  which  we 
had  bought  of  the  Indians  at  the  rendezvous.  The 
projected  trip  to  the  Columbia,  however,  on  which 
we  would  have  to  cross  a  wide,  barren,  sandy  plateau, 
made  fresh  meat  supplies  a  necessity,  which  deter- 
mined us  to  make  this  side  trip.  The  neighborhood 
of  the  Beer  Spring  does  not  abound  in  game;  further 
north,  however,  toward  the  Snake  River,  we  hoped 


—  104  — 

sprln?^'  to  find  more  of  It.  The  leader  of  our  little  party  was 
p'orVAan"  Mr.  Richardson,  an  experienced  mountaineer,  who 
had  been  with  us  from  the  beginning  of  our  journey. 
On  July  17th  we  left  the  Beer  Spring.  Between 
Snake  River  and  Bear  River  there  is  an  unimportant 
chain  of  mountains,  a  continuation  of  the  one  down 
whose  northwestern  slope  we  had  traveled.  Two  lit- 
tle streams,  Gray  Creek  and  Blackfoot  Creek,  have 
their  sources  in  these  mountains,  and  flow  into  the 
Snake  River  in  a  northwesterly  course.  We  crossed 
these  mountains,  and  zigzagged  northeastwardly  and 
northwestwardly  in  the  angle  formed  by  the  three 
streams  last  mentioned. 

On  the  first  day  we  only  saw  some  shy  antelope;  on 
the  second  day  we  saw  two  buffalo,  and  killed  one  of 
them.  The  country  was  broken,  the  ground  sandy, 
and  game  was  scarce.  For  three  days  we  remained 
on  a  little  brook,  while  some  of  us  were  sent  out  to 
hunt.  In  all  this  time  only  three  buffalo,  a  buffalo 
calf  and  a  grizzly  bear  were  shot.  If  ever  a  sojourn 
was  tedious  to  me,  it  was  this  one.  The  surroundings 
were  depressingly  desolate.  Only  hungry  j*avens 
croaked  around,  as  If  In  mockery  of  us;  and  as  the 
Blackfeet  frequently  roam  through  the  country,  we 
had  to  keep  as  quiet  as  possible.  No  one  was  per- 
mitted to  fire  a  gun  or  go  hunting,  save  the  hunters 
regularly  chosen  for  the  purpose.  On  the  seventh 
day  we  finally  started  off  again.  I  felt  a  load  off  my 
heart  as  I  mounted  once  more,  and  turned  my  back 
on  this  uncanny  country.     On  the  same  day  we  saw 


—  105  — 
in  the  distance  the  so-called  Three  Buttes,  three  steep  pe  Beer 

'  r     Spring — 

snow  peaks,  across  the  Snake  River,  visible  from  afar.  p'^rVAau" 
The  sandy  valley  of  the  Snake  River  was  spread  out 
before  us.  On  the  eighth  day  we  crossed  the  Black- 
foot  Creek,  followed  its  course  for  a  time,  and  finally 
on  the  ninth  day  camped  near  the  Snake  River,  about 
eight  miles  below  Fort  Hall.  The  next  day,  July 
26th,  I  rode  with  some  others  to  the  fort. 


CHAPTER^     FOURTEEN 

THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER  — THE 
HUDSON'S  BAY  COMPANY 


ORT  HALL  lies  on  the  left  bank  of 
the  Snake  River,  between  the  mouths 
of  the  Blackfoot  and  Portneuf  Creeks. 
It  was  built  by  Capt.  Wyeth,  and  sold 
VV  Jj  by  him  some  years  later,  when  he  left 
U-JElC— U  j-j^g  mountains,  to  the  Hudson's  Bay- 
Company,  in  whose  possession  it  has  remained  up 
to  the  present.  It  is  the  most  southern  fort  which 
this  English  company  has  pushed  into  the  Oregon 
Territory  of  the  United  States.  The  fort  lies  hard 
by  the  river,  and  is  built  in  a  square  of  about  eighty 
by  eighty  feet,  suggestive  of  barracks.  The  style  is 
essentially  that  of  Fort  Laramie,  except  that  the  outer 
walls,  ten  to  twelve  feet  high,  are  constructed  in 
this  case  out  of  partly  baked  brick  instead  of  wood. 
A  small  cannon  is  in  the  courtyard.  The  fort  owns 
many  horses  and  six  cows.  The  whole  garrison  con-, 
sisted  of  six  men ;  among  them  two  Sandwich  Island- 
ers and  a  German.    The  clerks  of  the  fort  were  Mr. 


—  I07— ' 

Armedinger  and  Mr.  Walker.  We  had  learned  to  coiumWa 
know  the  former  as  a  jovial  companion  at  the  rendez-  ?h''e^'~ 
vous.  Both  showed  themselves  very  obliging  to  us,  Bäy^°°^ 
and  furnished  in  this  respect  an  agreeable  contrast  to 
the  often  brusque  behavior  of  agents  at  American 
forts.  The  day  of  our  arrival  we  were  invited  to  a. 
supper  in  the  fort,  which  would  be  deemed  quite  fru- 
gal in  civilized  life,  but  which,  in  this  wilderness,  con- 
sisted of  the  most  delicious  dishes  which  we  had  tasted 
since  we  started,  namely,  bread,  butter,  milk,  dried 
buffalo  meat  and  tea  with  rum.  No  Paris  meal  com- 
posed with  all  a  gourmand's  art  ever  tasted  better 
to  me,  than  the  luxuries  (for  that  country)  of  this 
feast  on  the  sand  steppes  of  the  Snake  River.  As  we 
intended  to  stay  here  at  least  eight  days  to  allow  our 
animals  to  recuperate  and  to  prepare  ourselves  for 
the  trying  journey  to  the  Columbia,  I  employed  the 
time  in  making  inquiries  about  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company  and  the  country  about  the  Columbia  River, 
and  here  give  the  result: 

The  Snake  River  (Lewis  River)  has  its  source  on 
the  western  slope  of  the  main  chain  of  the  Rockies, 
and  flows  in  northwesterly  direction  about  eight 
hundred  miles,  when  it  unites  with  the  Clarke  River, 
coming  from  the  northeast,  to  form  the  Columbia 
River,  which,  after  a  western  course  of  only  two 
hundred  miles,  empties  into  the  Pacific  Ocean.  The 
Snake  River  flows  through  a  sandy  plateau,  in  which 
there  can  be  found  almost  no  game  and  very  little 
food  for  the  animals.    About  one  hundred  miles  from 


—  io8  — 

ciJiumbia  ^^^  Columbia,  the  Snake  River  pierces  a  spur  of  the 
Thr~  Rockies,  the  Blue  Mountains.  The  river  has  a  very 
^u^sons  rapid  current,  and  is  broken  up  by  numerous  falls,  of 
which  the  first  begin  a  little  below  Fort  Hall,  and 
has  banks  of  basalt,  so  steep  that  one  must  often  go 
along  them  for  quite  a  while  before  finding  a  place  to 
get  water.  Below  the  falls,  near  the  Columbia  River, 
it  is  full  of  salmon,  which  the  Indians  kill  by  thou- 
sands with  the  spear,  dry  and  keep  in  store.  Until 
one  comes  to  that  region  one  must  be  provided  with 
an  ample  supply  of  dried  meat,  if  one  does  not  wish 
to  risk  encountering  such  hardships  as  Mr.  Hunt  ex- 
perienced on  his  memorable  journey  thitherward. 
The  broad  Snake  River  valley  is  in  the  main  sterile 
country.  The  climate  there  is  moderately  warm.  The 
summers  are  remarkable  for  great  dryness ;  for  whole 
months  there  is  neither  dew  nor  rain.  The  winters 
are  rather  cold.  Snow  is  often  several  feet  deep. 
Westwardly  from  the  Snake  River  there  are  several 
steep  mountain  chains  with  many  glaciers,  dividing 
this  country  from  California  and  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
The  direct  road  to  California  is  very  difficult  on  ac- 
count of  these  mountains.  Even  unloaded  mules  can 
cross  them  only  with  great  effort.  For  this  reason 
it  is  thought  preferable  for  those  going  to  upper  Cali- 
fornia to  make  a  detour  via  the  Columbia  River. 
The  distance  from  Fort  Hall  to  the  Columbia  is  esti- 
mated at  about  six  hundred  miles.  A  second  fort  be- 
longing to  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  lies  at  the 
junction  of  the  Boisse  with  the  Snake  River.     The 


— 109 — • 

first  English  fort  on  the  Columbia  is  Walla  Walla,  coiumwa 
about  nine  miles  below  the  Snake  River.  But  the  The"~ 
main  fort  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  is  Vancou-  Bäy^°"* 
ver,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Columbia,  about  ninety 
miles  from  its  mouth.  Furthermore,  there  is  a  fort  on 
the  Clarke  River,  Fort  Colleville,  and  several  others 
of  less  importance  on  various  small  rivers  that  flow 
into  the  Columbia.  These  forts  are  built  like  the 
American  ones,  meant  simply  for  defense  against  the 
Indians,  and  without  military  garrisons.  Fort  George, 
the  Astoria  of  the  past,  consists  simply  of  a  block- 
house occupied  by  only  three  or  four  men,  whose  duty 
it  is  to  note  the  arrival  of  vessels  and  pilot  them.  The 
Columbia  River  seems  to  have  been  known  to  Span- 
ish seamen.  The  honor  of  its  first  authentic  discov- 
ery belongs  to  Captain  Robert  Gray  of  Boston,  who, 
sailing  under  the  flag  of  the  United  States,  discov- 
ered it  in  May,  1792,  ascended  it  for  fifteen  miles, 
and  gave  it  the  name  of  his  own  vessel,  Columbia. 
Two  promontories  form  the  entrance  to  the  Colum- 
bia River:  on  the  north,  Cape  Disappointment;  on 
the  south.  Cape  Adams.  A  sand  bank  running  from 
north  to  south  for  two  miles,  with,  at  places,  only  four 
and  a  half  fathoms,  makes  the  entrance  difficult;  but 
there  is  on  one  side  a  channel  of  adequate  depth, 
though  narrow.  For  the  first  ten  miles  the  Columbia 
is  about  four  miles  broad;  higher  up,  to  Vancouver, 
it  has  an  average  width  of  a  mile.  It  is  a  deep  river, 
carrying  much  water.  Vessels  with  not  more  than 
fourteen  feet  draught  can  ascend  it  for  about  one 


—  no 


The 

Columbia 
River — 

The 

Hudson's 

Bay 

Company^ 


hundred  and  twenty-five  miles;  but  above  that  a  suc- 
cession of  falls  begin,  impassable  for  vessels  of  every 
kind,  forming  obstacles  whose  removal  would  be  dis- 
proportionately expensive. 

The  land  along  the  Columbia  has  been  described 
in  most  recent  times  as  a  western  paradise.  The 
truth  of  the  matter  is  that  the  ground  is  indeed  very 
fruitful,  and  well  suited  for  the  cultivation  of  wheat, 
barley,  oats,  rice,  beans,  potatoes,  apples,  tobacco  and 
the  like ;  but  just  as  good  tracts  of  land  can  be  found 
in  Illinois  and  Missouri.  Besides,  the  Columbia 
River  itself  has  only  small  valleys,  which  are  sub- 
ject to  overflow;  and  so  the  valleys  of  the  smaller 
streams  that  flow  into  the  Columbia  from  the  north 
and  south  are  even  better.  One  of  the  most  fertile 
tracts  is  the  land  along  the  Wallamette,  which  flows 
from  south  to  north  into  the  Columbia.  Immediately 
on  the  seacoast  the  land  is  the  worst.  The  chief 
kinds  of  wood  are  white  oak  and  long-leaf  pine. 
Game  is  scarce,  but  there  is  superfluity  of  fish,  espe- 
cially salmon.  The  climate  in  summer  is  about  the 
same  as  in  the  central  part  of  the  United  States.  The 
summer  is  distinguished  by  its  dryness;  for  which  rear- 
son  maize  succeeds  indifi^erently.  In  winter,  there  is 
seldom  frost  or  snow;  but  from  October  to  April 
there  is  almost  continuous  rain,  which  refreshes  the 
dried  grass  and  makes  it  green.  The  fields  are  us- 
ually sown  as  early  as  January.  These  mild  winters 
make  this  country  one  of  the  most  suitable  for  cattle 
raising.     No  part  of  the  United  States  is  thought  to 


Ill 


excel  it  therein.     Horses,  cattle,  and  sheep — hogs  in  coiumwa 
a  less  degree — thrive  here  exceptionally,  and  multi-  Th'e"" 
ply  with  amazing    rapidity.     The    country    on    the  Bay^°^^ 
Wallamette  is  also  distinguished  in  this  particular. 
The  settlement  at  Vancouver  is  up  to  now  the  largest 
on  the  Columbia  River.     The  fort  is  a  square  build- 
ing, two  or  three  hundred  feet  long  and  broad.     In 
its  midst  are  the  various  worlcshops;  but  the  workmen 
live  chiefly  outside  of  the  fort  in  little  block  houses. 
The  people  in  the  employ  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany, mostly  Canadians,  amount  to  about  two  hun- 
dred, and  as  for  the  greater  part  they  have  married 
Indian  women,  the  whole  number  of  inhabitants  may 
be  estimated  at  from  seven  to  eight  hundred. 

The  fort  has  laid  out  a  farm  in  its  vicinity.  In 
1837,  about  three  thousand  acres  were  in  cultivation. 
The  produce  was:  8,000  bushels  of  wheat,  5,500 
bushels  of  barley,  6,000  bushels  of  oats,  9,000  bush- 
els of  peas,  and  4,000  bushels  of  potatoes.  Of  ani- 
mals they  had  in  the  same  year  about  one  thousand 
head  of  cattle,  seven  hundred  hogs,  twO'  hundred 
sheep,  five  hundred  horses  and  forty  yoke  of  draught 
oxen.  In  addition  they  have  a  great  threshing  ma- 
chine, a  distillery,  and  a  grist  mill.  A  saw  mill,  cut- 
ting 3,000  feet  a  day,  and  served  by  twenty-eight  men 
and  ten  yoke  of  oxen,  lies  six  miles  from  Vancouver 
on  a  little  river  that  flows  into  the  Columbia.  The 
surplus  products,  chiefly  flour  and  boards,  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company  exports  to  the  Sandwich  Islands 
and  to  California.     For  one  thousand  feet  of  boards 


112 

The  they  get  in  the  Sandwich  Islands  $60.00  to  $100.00. 

Columbia  .  ~r  ^   ^ 

The^*^"  In  California,  they  generally  exchange  for  cattle  at 

Ba?^""'^  A3. 00  a  head.  The  company  conducts  this  trade  with 
ompan  .^^  ^^^  vcsscls.  It  owns  at  present  one  ship,  one  brig, 
one  schooner,  one  sloop  and  one  steamboat.  The 
inner  organization  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  is 
based  on  strict  subordination.  The  company  consists 
of  one  hundred  shareholders,  who  are  such,  however, 
only  for  life.  Headquarters  are  in  London.  The 
general  agents,  who  live  in  America  (partners),  re- 
ceive one-eighth  of  the  profit  on  one  share,  which 
amounts  annually  to  $4,000  to  $5,000;  chief  traders 
receive  one-sixteenth;  clerks  receive  yearly  £100;  and 
laborers  £15  to  £17  with  fixed  rations  of  potatoes, 
salmon,  beans  and  salt  in  addition.  The  company 
engages  its  men  for  five  years,  and  sends  them  back 
to  their  homes  if  they  do  not  wish  to  serve  longer. 
Old  employes  it  permits  to  stay  in  the  country  on 
leave  of  absence,  assigning  them  land  to  cultivate. 
During  the  time  they  receive  no  salary,  but  can  be 
called  into  service  at  any  moment.  Promotions  arc 
made  on  a  system  based  on  rank  and  age.  A  yearly 
meeting  of  the  partners  and  chief  traders  Is  held  at 
York  Factory  on  Hudson's  Bay,  which  meeting  has 
jurisdiction  over  all  employes  of  the  Hudson's  Bay 
Company,  and  issues  its  orders  from  there.  Constant 
communication  is  maintained  between  Vancouver  and 
York  Factory  by  land  through  express  messengers. 
In  addition  a  ship  comes  yearly  from  London  to  the 
Columbia  River  to  bring  fresh  merchandise,  and  to 


—  US- 
carry  back  to  England  the  furs  which  the  company  Columbia 
acquires  from  Indians  and  trappers  in  coast  and  in-  r^r^^ 
land  trade.  Beaver  skins  are  the  most  profitable  part  Bay^°"  ^ 
of  the  cargo.  Shipment  of  salmon  has  been  aban- 
doned. The  company  receives  all  its  goods  from 
England  free  of  duty,  and  sells  them  much  cheaper 
than  the  American  companies.  In  this  way  the  Hud- 
son's Bay  Company  is  in  position  to  hold  all  competi- 
tors in  check,  and  to  maintain  an  undisputed  over- 
lordship  over  all  tire  regions  beyond  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains. The  Indians  on  the  Columbia  River,  already 
greatly  diminished  in  numbers  through  disease  and 
excesses,  are  committed  to  it  so  unconditionally  that 
they  scarce  dare  to  trade  with  Americans.  As  yet,  all 
attempts  ventured  by  Americans  against  this  com- 
pany have  gone  to  pieces.  The  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany has  the  advantages  of  connection  by  sea,  inter- 
nal union  and  the  protection  of  the  English  govern- 
ment. The  only  settlement  made  by  citizens  of  the 
United  States  is  now  on  the  Wallamette,  This  small 
stream,  flowing  from  the  south  to  the  Columbia,  is 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  long,  and  naviga- 
ble for  ships  of  twelve  feet  draught  for  about  twenty 
miles.  Some  New  York  Methodist  missionaries  have 
recently  settled  here  and  gathered  around  them  a  little 
colony  of  Americans,  Canadians  and  Indians.  As 
they  do  not  trade,  but  devote  themselves  only  to  agri- 
culture and  cattle  raising,  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company 
has  put  no  obstacles  in  their  way,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
encourages  them  and  takes  supplies   from   them  at 


—  114  — 


J*',^    u-         fixed  prices.     For  a  bushel  of  wheat,  for  Instance,  the 

Columbia  ^ 

River — 

The 


company  usually  gives  fifty  cents  In  goods,  while  it 
Hudson's        receives  on  Its  part  one  dollar  and  a  half  in  money 
ompany       fj-Qni  the  RussIans  In  California. 

The  Americans,  whose  claims  to  the  territory  of 
the  Columbia  River  are  much  better  founded  than 
those  of  the  English,  are  now  merely  tolerated  by  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company.  Had  the  Government  of 
the  United  States  given  the  slightest  support  to  As- 
tor's  enterprise,  the  Americans  In  all  probability 
would  still  be  in  possession  of  the  country;  but,  as  It  Is, 
the  United  States  has  done  nothing  to  protect  its 
claims  through  treaties.  As  far  back  as  1 8 1 8  a  treaty 
was  made  between  the  United  States  and  England, 
whereunder  both  powers  were  allowed  free  access  to 
the  Columbia,  without  abandoning  their  respective 
claims.  In  1826,  the  United  States  proposed  to  Eng- 
land to  draw  the  line  beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains  to 
the  Pacific  Ocean  in  prolongation  of  the  boundary  on 
this  side  of  the  mountains,  that  Is  to  say,  on  the  forty- 
ninth  parallel,  whereunder  the  Columbia  River  would 
have  fallen  wholly  in  the  territory  of  the  United 
States;  but  the  proposal  was  rejected  and  the  former 
treaty  was  renewed  for  an  indefinite  period  determin- 
able by  one  year's  notice.  This  provisional  arrange- 
ment, during  which  the  English,  by  means  of  the 
Hudson's  Bay  Company,  have  acquired  the  actual 
control  of  the  country,  is  still  in  force.  The  country  is 
too  valuable  to  ever  be  surrendered  voluntarily  by  the 
English.     While  the  Columbia  is  navigable  for  only 


—  115  — 

a  short  distance,  and  its  tributaries,  on  account  of  the  Columbia 
numerous  falls,  are  not  suited  for  navigation,  there  is  The"~ 
the  better  opportunity  for  mills  and  power  plants;  ßäy^""* 

11  •         .  11-11  I     Company^ 

and  better  communications  could  easily  be  secured 
through  the  construction  of  canals.  Moreover,  the 
country  is  very  suitable  for  agriculture  and  cattle  rais- 
ing. The  interior  trade  and  the  coast  trade  with  the 
Indians  is  very  profitable.  The  intercourse  with  the 
Sandwich  Islands,  California,  Russian  America  and 
Asia  grows  from  year  to  year ;  and  the  trading  vessels 
and  whalers  on  the  Pacific  Ocean  find  here  a  safe  base 
for  action.  In  short,  if  any  place  on  the  western  shore 
of  North  America  seems  designed  by  nature  to  be  a 
western  New  York  on  the  Pacific  Ocean,  It  Is  this. 
The  Straits  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  somewhat  further  north, 
form  a  much  better  harbor.  It  is  said  that  a  whole 
fleet  could  anchor  there  in  safety.  These  straits  also 
lie  south  of  the  forty-ninth  parallel.  The  Hudson's 
Bay  Company  seems  to  have  secret  assurances  from 
the  English  government  that  at  the  worst  the  course 
of  the  Columbia  River  would  be  made  the  boundary, 
and  Its  right  bank  retained;  at  least  all  the  chief  set- 
tlements of  the  company  are  made  on  that  side,  and 
buildings  begun  on  the  left  shore  have  been  aban- 
doned. But  the  United  States  will  not  submit  tO'  such 
an  infraction  of  its  rights,  and  again  the  problem  of 
the  Gordlan  Knot  will  not  be  solved  without  the 
sword. 


CHAPTER^     FIFTEEN 

BEGINNING  THE  RETURN  JOURNEY— 
THE  BEAVER 

REMAINED  eight  days  at  Fort  Hall. 
We  camped  outside  of  the  fort.  Various 
parties  of  Indians  and  trappers  arrived 
during  this  time,  and  camped  by  us. 
The  trappers  were  mostly  French-Ca- 
nadians, preparing  for  a  fresh  cam- 
paign against  the  beavers.  The  Indians,  chiefly  Flat- 
heads,  led  a  life  that  suited  them  perfectly.  They 
gambled  and  sang  all  night  long,  and  slept  during  the 
day.  Near  the  fort  were  some  graves.  In  one  of 
them  rested  Antoine  Godin,  an  adventurous  moun- 
taineer and  a  bitter  foe  of  the  Blackfeet.  It  was  he 
who  brought  on  in  1832  the  bloody  fight  with  the 
Blackfeet  at  Pierre's  Hole,  related  in  W.  Irving's 
"Rocky  Mountains,"  by  treacherously  grasping  the 
hand  of  their  leader,  while  another  shot  him.  The 
Blackfeet  after  that  harbored  the  bitterest  enmity 
for  him.  Some  years  later  a  band  of  Blackfeet  ap- 
peared near  Fort  Hall,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Snake 


—  117  — 

River.  Through  signs  they  made  it  known  that  they  fh^Re'turn 
were  peaceably  disposed  and  wished  to  trade  with  the  TheB^Ter 
fort.  Some  white  men — among  them  Godin,  who 
chanced  to  be  there — crossed  the  river,  and  smoked 
the  pipe  of  peace  with  them.  While  they  were  thus 
employed,  a  Blackfoot  shot  Godin  from  behind,  and 
so  avenged  the  death  of  their  leader  through  similar 
treachery.  Such  occurrences  are  here,  unfortunately, 
not  uncommon ;  and  the  first  provocation  is  given  or- 
dinarily by  the  whites  rather  than  by  the  Indians. 

The  days  of  rest  which  I  spent  at  Fort  Hall  re- 
stored full  vigor  to  my  body,  which  had  been  debili- 
tated by  my  previous  illness  and  hardships;  and  the 
leisure  I  had  to  reflect  on  my  program  for  further 
travel,  determined  me  to  change  it;  and,  instead  of 
going  to  the  Columbia  River  to  return  to  the  United 
States.  Several  reasons  brought  me  to  this  conclusion. 
In  our  party,  composed  of  very  heterogeneous  ele- 
ments, many  dissensions  had  of  late  developed,  so 
that  a  regular  separation  occurred,  our  party,  small 
as  It  was,  splitting  into  three  or  four  smaller  ones. 
Although  I  took  no  part  in  these  petty  quarrels,  I  was 
ill  at  ease  the  while,  and  missed  a  great  comfort  on 
such  trips,  that  is,  good  company.  Moreover,  I 
would  in  all  probability  have  had  to  spend  the  win- 
ter on  the  Columbia,  for  the  journey  from  there  to 
California  by  land  is  very  fatiguing  and  dangerous. 
Caravans  go  there  but  seldom,  and  then  my  limited 
means  would  not  permit  me  a  prolonged  stay  on  the 
Columbia  and  a  scientific  exploration  of  the  country. 


—  ii8-^ 

fhÄ'tiTrn  Under  these  circumstances  I  thought  it  most  advis- 
The  Braver  »ble  to  retum  in  the  fall  to  the  United  States  by  an- 
other road  than  that  by  which  we  had  come  up.  Two 
of  my  former  traveling  companions  came  to  the  same 
resolution.  But  as  we  were  all  novices  in  mountain 
life,  and  wished  to  cross  the  country  in  various  direc- 
tions, we  looked  about  for  an  experienced  and  relia- 
ble guide,  and  found  him  in  Mr.  Richardson,  who  had 
accompanied  our  journey  up  as  hunter.  So  there  were 
only  four  of  us  to  begin  the  return  trip.  Our  plan 
was  to  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains  in  a  more  southern 
direction;  to  gradually  draw  toward  the  Mexican  bor- 
der and  to  reach  the  boundary  of  Missouri  by  the 
great  Santa  Fe  road.  Our  undertaking  was  not  with- 
out danger.  Our  little  party,  in  case  of  an  encounter 
with  hostile  Indians,  had  little  chance  of  success.  On 
the  other  hand,  we  had  the  advantage  of  attracting 
less  notice  and  of  being  able  to  travel  faster. 

We  left  Fort  Hall  in  high  spirits  on  August  loth. 
We  proceeded  on  a  southeasterly  course  directly  to 
the  Beer  Spring,  sixty  miles  ofF.  The  road  thither 
was  hilly  and  even  somewhat  mountainous.  Pine, 
cedar  and  cottonwood  were  the  prevailing  trees.  At  a 
little  brook  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  for  the  first 
time  an  old  beaver  dam.  Unfortunately  I  did  not 
get  sight  of  a  single  beaver  on  the  whole  journey;  for 
they  are  very  wary  and  from  June  to  August,  during 
which  time  I  was  in  beaver  regions,  beaver  trapping 
Is  usually  suspended.     So  I  can  give  the  natural  his- 


—  119  — 

tory  of  this  remarkable  animal  only  on  the  basis  of  fhfnJt'urn 
reliable  reports.  TheB^'LTer 

The  beaver  (Castor  Fiber)  is  about  two  feet  long, 
has  a  thick  heavy  body,  compressed  head  with  short 
elliptical  ears,  and  somewhat  oval,  but  rather  broad 
tail,  about  ten  inches  long  and  covered  with  scales. 
The  whole  body  is  covered  with  a  dense  fur,  consist- 
ing of  longer  reddish  brown  and  shorter  silvery  hair. 
The  skill  of  these  animals  in  constructing  their  dwell- 
ings is  well  known.  They  prefer  living  on  brooks  and 
streamlets  whose  shores  are  overgrown  with  willows. 
In  order  to  have  deep  water  continually,  they  build  a 
dam  through  the  water,  sometimes  diagonally,  some- 
times in  a  convex  bow.  At  this  dam  all  the  colony 
of  beavers  living  together  work  jointly.  Their  only 
tools  for  this  building  are  their  teeth,  their  claws  and 
their  tail.  In  the  water  thus  dammed  up,  each  beaver 
family  builds  for  itself  out  of  the  same  material  little 
square  dwellings.  In  addition  to  these  dwellings  the 
beavers  usually  have  side  caverns  in  the  bank  of  the 
stream  {caches),  where  they  retire  when  their  dwell- 
ings are  destroyed.  When  the  state  of  the  water 
makes  it  unnecessary,  or  when  they  are  often  dis- 
turbed, they  build  neither  dam  nor  dwellings,  but 
content  themselves  with  these  side  caverns.  Their 
dwellings,  which  they  frequently  repair,  become  in 
time  so  firm  that  they  can  only  be  broken  with  tools. 
The  greater  part  of  these  dwellings  is  under  water; 
but  there  is  under  the  roof  a  space  without  water,  as 
the  beavers  cannot  remain  long  under  water  without 


I20 


fhTR^turl  breathing.  The  conical  roof  is  often  four  to  six  feet 
The'ai'aver  thick.  Thc  intcHor  of  thcir  dwcllings  they  kccp  vcry 
neat.  Every  dwelling  has,  deep  down  in  the  water, 
on  the  side  furthest  removed  from  the  shore,  an  open- 
ing for  the  entrance  and  exit  of  its  inmates.  Beavers 
work  only  at  night.  By  day  they  do  not  leave  their 
dams,  and  swim,  when  going  from  one  cone  to  an- 
other, so  far  under  water  that  one  cannot  notice  them. 
The  beaver  feeds  on  the  roots  of  various  water 
plants;  for  instance,  a  niiphar  luteum,  but  chiefly  on 
the  bark  of  various  trees,  especially  willow,  cotton- 
wood  and  birch.  Only  in  sore  need  does  he  gnaw  the 
pines.  With  this  object,  beavers  fell  trees  whose 
trunks  are  even  six  to  eight  inches  in  diameter,  solely 
by  gnawing  them  with  their  sharp  teeth,  leaving  a 
conical  stump.  They  like  to  cut  the  trees  on  the  shore 
side  and  then  float  them  down  on  the  water  to  their 
dwellings.  If  the  locality  does  not  admit  of  floating 
the  trees  they  drag  them  overland  for  long  distances. 
They  gather  in  summer  provisions  for  the  winter, 
which  they  keep  in  front  of  the  entrances  to  their 
dwellings.  The  females  bring  forth  yearly  two  to 
five  young.  The  young  beavers  are  very  droll  creat- 
ures. Their  cry  deceptively  resembles  that  of  little 
children.  The  beavers  are  usually  caught  in  iron 
traps,  whose  two  springs  can  be  pressed  apart.  The 
bait  which  is  put  on  it  is  a  mixture  of  beaver  secre- 
tions (castoreum)  with  various  spices  and  some  whis- 
key. A  stick  or  twig  is  smeared  with  this,  and  set 
upon  the  trap.   The  bait  must  project  over  the  water. 


121  


The  trap  itself  is  in  the  water,  and  fastened  to  the  fhe^ReTu"n 
shore  by  a  chain.  In  summer,  the  beavers  are  lean,  TheB^^aver 
and  their  fur  is  poor,  for  which  reason  they  are  us- 
ually not  caught  at  this  time.  But  in  winter  they  get 
fat  and  have  thicker  hair.  Their  meat  is  very  palat- 
able. The  tails,  which  are  fat  all  through,  are  espe- 
cially regarded  as  delicacies.  Besides  the  fur,  the  cas- 
toreum  found  in  two  pouches  on  the  belly,  is  very  val- 
uable for  its  use  In  medicine.  A  persistent  enemy  of 
the  beaver  is  the  wolverine  (Gulo  Liiseus) ,  a  sort  of 
glutton  who  attacks  not  only  the  winter  supplies  of 
the  beavers,  but  often  the  beavers  themselves.  Their 
most  dangerous  enemy,  however,  is  the  tireless  trap- 
per. The  beaver  formerly  spread  over  the  greater 
part  of  the  United  States.  From  the  cultivated  por- 
tions he  has  disappeared  long  ago;  and  in  his  present 
home,  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  he  is  beginning  to 
become  scarcer.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of  them 
have  been  trapped  there  in  the  last  decades,  and  a  war 
of  extermination  has  been  waged  against  the  race. 
The  consequence  is  that  they  are  now  found  only 
singly  in  regions  that  were  formerly  well  known  for 
their  abundance  of  beavers.  It  is  only  in  the  lands 
of  hostile  Indians,  the  Blackfeet,  for  instance,  that 
they  still  exist  in  greater  numbers,  because  the  Indians 
do  not  specially  occupy  themselves  with  beaver  trap- 
ping. The  furs  of  beavers  caught  in  the  spring  are 
best.  However,  many  trappers  catch  them  in  every 
season.  The  green  skins  are  first  cleaned,  then 
stretched  out,  dried  and  folded.     A  dry  beaver  pelt 


122 


fhe^Re"urn  wclghs  usually  f Fom  One  to  two  pounds ;  but  there  are 
ThcB^Ver  somc  of  thfcc  pounds  weight.  About  sixty  beaver 
skins  are  bound  together  in  a  pack.  Two  such  packs 
make  an  ordinary  load  for  a  mule.  The  Hudson's 
Bay  Company  has  established  more  system  in  beaver 
trapping  within  its  territories.  It  allows  trapping 
only  at  certain  seasons,  and  when  beavers  get  scarce  in 
any  neighborhood,  trapping  is  strictly  forbidden  there 
for  some  years.  In  regions,  however,  on  whose  per- 
manent possession  the  company  does  not  count,  it  al- 
lows the  trappers  to  do  as  they  please.  But  if  trap- 
ping is  carried  on  in  this  ruthless  fashion,  in  fifty  years 
all  the  beavers  there  will  have  disappeared,  as  have 
those  in  the  east,  and  the  country  will  thereby  lose  a 
productive  branch  of  commerce. 

On  the  third  day  after  leaving  Fort  Hall  we  came 
again  to  the  Beer  Spring.  The  day  was  hot;  so  much 
the  more  refreshing  the  water.  In  front  of  us  sev- 
eral smoke  wreaths  arose.  We  had  also  discovered 
other  signs  of  Indians  that  were  ahead  of  us.  Nev- 
ertheless, we  slept  without  sense  of  danger.  Our 
party  was  too  small  to  permit  of  a  night  watch.  Ex- 
ertion by  day  and  by  night  would  have  exhausted  us 
too  much.  The  only  precaution  we  took  was  tO'  tie 
our  animals  at  night  close  by;  for  the  rest  we  relied 
on  good  fortune.  That  we  kept  our  guns  in  prime 
condition  Is  a  matter  of  course.  On  such  journeys 
one  gets  habituated  to  his  rifle  as  to  a  trusty  traveling 
companion.  During  the  march  the  gun  lies  across 
the  saddle ;  when  one  rests  It  Is  always  close  at  hand. 


—  123  — 


One  never  leaves  camp  without  taking  it  as  a  cane;  ^"e^RjiiTrn 
and  at  night  it  is  wrapped  in  the  blanket  with  the  TheßTa^er 
sleeper,  to  be  ready  for  use  at  the  first  alarm.  As 
disquieting  as  such  conditions  would  be  in  civilized 
life,  here  one  becomes  so  habituated  to  them  that  I 
do  not  remember  to  have  ever  slept  more  peacefully 
In  my  life.  We  no  longer  used  tents,  but  slept  quite 
unprotected  In  the  open  air.  The  weather,  too,  had 
of  late  become  so  genial  as  to  leave  nothing  to  be  de- 
sired. During  all  the  time  that  we  were  on  the  west 
side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  we  had  very  steady 
weather.  In  the  morning  the  thermometer  was  us- 
ually between  30''  and  40°  Fahrenheit;  at  noon  about 
80°;  at  evening  about  60°.  With  this  the  sky  was 
clear  and  the  west  wind  cool.  When  clouds  occasion- 
ally gathered,  the  west  wind,  putting  forth  more 
force,  scattered  the  approaching  storm,  sometimes 
with  thunder  and  hghtening,  but  generally  without 
rain. 


CHAPTER^,     SIXTEEN 

THE  JOURNEY  FROM  BEER  SPRING 
TO  FORT  CROCKET 


X^.Ä 


W~jE  left  the  Beer  Spring  on  the  morning  of 
August  14th.  I  drank  some  cups  of 
the  sparkling  water,  and  bade  adieu  to 
the  place  so  endeared  to  me  as  to  an 
old  friend  that  one  does  not  expect  to 
see  again  for  a  long  time.  Our  direc- 
tion was  southeastwardly.  We  ascended  the  right 
bank  of  the  Bear  River  for  four  days,  following  al- 
most the  same  road  which  we  had  taken  through  the 
Bear  River  Valley  about  a  month  before,  after  we  had 
crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains;  but  this  time  we  gen- 
erally kept  closer  to  the  river.  On  the  first  day  we 
were  crossing  great  stretches  that  had  been  burnt 
over,  and  round  about  us  clouds  of  smoke  were  still 
ascending  from  the  mountains,  as  to  the  meaning  of 
which  we  could  not  entirely  agree.  The  Indians  usu- 
ally light  such  fires  as  signals,  when  they  wish  to 
collect  the  scattered  banas.  So  they  are  often  re- 
garded as  indications  that  enemies  are  in  the  vicinity, 


— 125  — 

or  are  making  an  excursion.  The  region  through  J^omsil^^^ 
which  we  traveled  belonged,  it  is  true,  to  a  friendly  lort"crocket 
Indian  tribe,  the  Snakes;  but  they  are  ravaged  occa- 
sionally by  these  implacable  foes  of  both  white  and 
red  men,  the  Blackfeet.  We  were  therefore  on  our 
guard  so  far  as  the  small  number  of  our  party  per- 
mitted. 

The  same  day  we  came  across  a  party  of  trappers, 
whom  we  had  already  met  at  Fort  Hall.  There  were 
eight  of  them,  chiefly  Canadians,  going  after  beaver. 
Some  of  them  had  their  squaws  with  them.  They 
were  bound  for  Ham's  Fork,  a  mountain  stream 
emptying  into  the  Green  River,  and,  though  our  road 
was  not  the  most  direct  for  them,  they  chose,  for  com- 
pany's sake,  to  travel  some  days  with  us.  Most  of 
them  were  old  mountaineers  of  great  experience,  and 
they  met  us  with  the  geniality  characteristic  of  the 
Canadian.  We  extended  reciprocal  hospitalities. 
There  was  no  fresh  meat  In  camp,  but  sufficient  of 
dried;  also  toro,  coffee,  cocoa  and  peppermint  tea. 
One  of  the  trappers  was  a  Fleming.  He  had  a 
squaw  with  him,  of  the  tribe  of  the  Eutaws,  whom 
he  had  bought  at  one  time  for  $500.00,  but  was  dis- 
posed to  sell  for  half  the  purchase  price.  She  was  a 
little,  unshapen  bundle  of  fat;  but  otherwise  seemed 
to  have  very  good  qualities,  for  he  recommended  her 
to  us  in  the  following  terms,  characteristic  of  the  car- 
dinal virtues  of  a  squaw :  "She  is  young,  gentle,  easy, 
and  in  first  rate  order."  The  trappers  seem,  unfor- 
tunately, to  have  adopted  from  the  Indians  the  habit 


126 


The^Journey  of  looking  OH  their  Indian  wives  as  chattels,  not  per- 
Fortcrocket  sons ;  and  the  squaws  themselves  seem  to  desire  no 
other  position.  On  the  second  day  we  started  to- 
gether, and  crossed  the  Thulick  Fork,  a  streamlet 
flowing  into  the  Bear  River  from  the  north.  Under 
way  we  met  a  band  of  Snake  Indians.  The  first  who 
saw  us,  took  to  flight  before  us,  but  when  we  had 
convinced  them  that  we  were  friendly  disposed,  they 
came  in  crowds  to  our  noonday  camp.  The  Snakes 
are  a  peaceable  tribe.  Their  country  is  not  rich  in 
game,  so  they  gather  in  the  fall  divers  roots  and  ber- 
ries for  the  winter.  They  had  lighted  the  fires  which 
we  had  seen  these  last  days,  but  only  to  call  their  peo- 
ple together  for  a  great  hunting  party.  The  Snakes 
had  five  horses  with  them.  A  race  of  several  miles 
for  a  wager  was  immediately  arranged  between  one 
of  their  horses  and  an  American  horse.  The  latter 
won.  In  the  afternoon,  making  a  rather  steep  ascent, 
which  afforded  us  a  view  of  Little  Snake  Lake,  lying 
to  the  south,  we  went  along  the  Bear  River  on  which 
we  camped  at  night  near  the  mouth  of  Thomas  Fork. 
The  third  day  we  stopped  at  noon  at  Smith's  Fork, 
emptying  into  the  Bear  River  from  the  northeast. 
Near  by,  there  was  a  rock  from  which  the  Blackfeet 
several  years  ago  had  shot  into  Bonneville's  camp, 
killing,  however,  only  a  mule.  Smith's  Fork  was  the 
first  stream  coming  from  the  western  mountain  slope 
which  we  had  touched  on  our  former  passage  through 
the  mountains.  From  here  on  we  took  a  direction 
differing  from  that  of  our  former  trip.     Instead  of 


127  — 

returning  northeastwardly  over  the  mountains,  we  J.^mBilT^ 
now  turned  southeastwardly,  in  order  to  reach  the  |ort°crocket 
Green  River  some  hundreds  of  miles  further  down. 
I  have  already  mentioned,  in  speaking  of  our  passage 
over  the  mountains,  that  the  chain  we  then  crossed 
runs  out  to  a  southern  point.  At  this  point,  as  it 
seems,  the  chain  is  pierced  by  the  great  eastern  prairie 
for  a  distance  of  forty  or  fifty  miles,  not  that  it  is  an 
open  plain,  but  it  is  certainly  much  more  open,  uni- 
form and  level  than  the  mountains  to  the  north  and 
south,  and  does  not  offer  such  unsurmountable  obsta- 
cles as  they  do  to  the  passage  of  teams.  This,  as  it 
were,  pierced  part  of  the  mountains,  is  bounded  on  the 
south  by  the  snow  peaks  of  the  Eutaw  Mountains,  on 
the  west  by  the  Bear  River,  and  on  the  east  by  the 
Green  River.  The  southeastern  direction,  which  we 
took  from  Smith's  Fork,  carried  us  right  through  this 
region,  which  is  perhaps  the  most  convenient  pass  over 
the  mountains.  Going  from  there  in  northeasterly  di- 
rection, one  reaches  again,  by  a  rather  open  road,  the 
Green  River  and  the  Sweet  Waters ;  but  we  preferred 
to  go  southeastwardly,  and  tO'  keep  entirely  off  from 
our  former  route.  The  trappers  left  us  at  Smith's 
Fork.  One  of  them,  however,  a  native  of  French 
Switzerland,  resolved  to  go  with  us.  Swiss  (so  we 
usually  called  him)  had  roamed  through  the  moun- 
tains for  eleven  full  years,  and  suddenly  took  a  no- 
tion to  try  civilization  again,  and  to  come  with  us  to 
St.  Louis.  He  was  an  experienced  mountaineer  and 
good  hunter.     On  his  accession,  our  party  numbered 


—  128—. 

from^Bee?^^  fivc  men.  On  August  9th,  we  left  Smith's  Fork  and 
Fort"crocket  Went  Still  up  thc  Bear  River,  though  at  some  distance 
from  it,  over  sandy,  rather  level  ground,  to  the 
Muddy,  which  empties  into  the  Bear  River.  Here 
we  finally  left  the  Bear  River  and  went  southeast- 
wardly  toward  Black  Fork,  which  has  its  source  in 
the  Eutaw  Mountains  and  flows  toward  the  Green 
River.  The  snow  peaks  of  the  Eutaw  Mountains 
were  on  our  right.  They  are  not  so  imposing  as  those 
of  the  Wind  River  Mountains.  The  grass  in  this  re- 
gion as  a  rule  was  very  poor,  the  game  very  scarce. 
We  had  not  yet  seen  buffalo  on  our  return  trip,  and 
the  few  antelopes  we  came  across  were  usually  wild. 
But  our  leader  was  fortunate  enough  to  kill  one  of 
them  on  the  way  to  the  Black  Fork.  The  nearer  we 
got  to  Black  Fork  the  more  uninteresting  we  found 
the  country.  The  ground  was  a  loamy  sand.  Only 
cedar  groves  throve  here  In  which  black-tailed  deer 
occur  singly.  This  species  is  as  large  as  the  Euro- 
pean deer,  with  long  ears  and  a  black  point  at  the 
tall.  But  we  did  not  get  a  shot  at  any  of  them.  The 
Black  Fork  itself  is  a  clear  rushing  brook,  overgrown 
with  Cottonwood,  willows  and  wild  currants.  Our 
animals  found  also  splendid  grass.  From  here  the 
country  becomes  more  hilly.  Many  steep,  conical, 
naked  sand  hills  alternated  now  and  then  with  little 
cedar  groves.  From  there  we  reached  Henry's  Fork, 
a  small  stream  flowing  Into  the  Green  River  south  of 
the  Black  Fork.  On  the  shores  grew  pine,  cotton- 
wood  and  willows.    The  grass  was  good.     We  fol- 


—  129  — 

lowed  the  streamlet  to  its  mouth.  We  had  warm  ^om^Be«*^ 
days,  and  suffered  so  much  from  mosquitoes  at  night,  Fort"crocket: 
that  we  often  could  not  get  one  hour's  rest. 

On  August  15th,  we  crossed  the  Green  River, 
which  winds  its  way  among  precipitous  mountains, 
and  at  this  point  can  still  be  easily  forded,  going 
slantingly  down  stream  for  two  more  days.  The 
road  was  generally  steep,  and  led  through  forests  of 
pine  and  cedar.  The  river  valley  at  first  was  narrow, 
but  widened  further  on.  The  geological  formation 
was  still  the  primitive.  On  August  17th  we  reached 
Fort  Crocket.  It  is  situated  close  by  the  Green  River 
on  Its  left  bank.  The  river  valley  here  is  broad,  and 
has  good  pasturage  and  sufficient  wood.  The  fort 
itself  is  the  worst  thing  of  the  kind  that  we  have  seen 
on  our  journey.  It  is  a  low  one-story  building,  con- 
structed of  wood  and  clay,  with  three  connecting 
wings,  and  no  enclosure.  Instead  of  cows  the  fort 
had  only  some  goats.  In  short,  the  whole  establish- 
ment appeared  somewhat  poverty-stricken,  for  which 
reason  it  Is  also  known  to  the  trappers  by  the  name 
of  Fort  Misery  {Fort  de  Misere) .  The  fort  belongs 
to  three  Americans :  Thompson,  Gray  and  Sinclair. 
The  latter  was  at  the  fort,  and  received  us  very  kindly 
but  regretted  his  Inability  to  offer  us  any  supplies. 
For  our  store  of  meat  was  exhausted,  and  we  had 
hoped  to  supply  ourselves  here  with  new  provisions. 
But  the  people  at  the  fort  seemed  to  be  worse  off  than 
we  were.  The  day  before  they  had  bought  a  lean 
dog  from  the  Indians  for  five  dollars,  and  considered 


130  — 


The  Journey 
from  Beer 
Spring  to 
Fort  Crocket 


its  meat  a  delicacy.    I,  too,  tried  some  of  it,  and  found 
its  taste  not  so  bad. 

In  addition  to  some  trappers  and  Indians,  we  found 
five  Americans  here,  who  had  started  in  the  spring 
with  a  larger  party  from  Peoria,  Illinois,  to  make  a 
settlement  on  the  Columbia  River.  They  had  arrived 
in  Westport  after  our  departure,  and  had  journeyed 
first  by  the  Santa  Fe  road,  then  up  the  Arkansas.  But 
through  several  quarrels  and  mishaps,  the  company, 
consisting  mainly  of  novices,  was  split  up  into  several 
smaller  groups.  The  party  we  here  met  had  made 
most  progress,  and  had  not  yet  abandoned  the  plan 
of  going  to  the  Columbia.  But  the  m.ost  difficult  part 
of  their  journey  lay  before  them.  So  two  of  them, 
Mr.  Ogley  and  Mr.  Wood,  thought  it  best  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  return  now  offered 
them,  and  to  join  our  party.  Our  party  was  thereby 
Increased  to  seven.  Among  the  people  of  the  fort  I 
had  expected  to  meet  an  old  friend  of  University  days 
who  had  been  roving  through  the  mountains  these  six 
years,  and  who  was  supposed  to  be  at  this  time  at  the 
fort.  To  note  the  metamorphosis  from  a  jovial  stu- 
dent at  Jena  into  a  trapper  would  be  interesting 
enough  In  Itself.  The  presence  of  S.  would  have  af- 
forded me  a  pleasure  far  beyond  this,  as  we  had  not 
seen  each  other  for  ten  years.  Unfortunately,  I 
learned  that  he  had  gone  beaver-trapping  and  would 
not  return  before  fall.  So  we  left  the  fort  the  next 
day. 


^A 


CHAPTER^    SEVENTEEN 

JOURNEY  FROM  FORT  CROCKET 
TO  THE  SOUTH  FORK 

N  August  1 8th  we  started  from  Fort 
Crocket.  Our  next  objective  point  was 
the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte;  so  our 
direction  was  generally  east.  We  went 
down  the  Green  River  for  some  miles 
more,  and  through  a  ravine  six  or  eight 
miles  long,  Brown's  Hole,  where  steep  rocks  of  sand- 
stone and  porphyry  rose  abruptly  on  either  side  at  a 
distance  of  from  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  feet. 
At  the  end  of  this  gorge  we  pitched  our  camp  for  the 
night.  The  next  morning  we  scraped  together  the 
last  morsels  in  our  meat  bags  and  ate  them  in  hopes 
of  soon  getting  fresh  meat.  But  our  way  led  over 
a  desert  sand  plain  with  little  grass  and  no  game.  In 
the  morning  we  had  crossed  the  Vermillion,  a  little 
brook  with  reddish  water,  which  flows  into  the  Green 
River,  but  at  evening  we  did  not  even  find  water.  We 
marched  on  till  late  at  night,  and  finally  laid  ourselves 
down,  hungry  and  thirsty,  on  the  sandy  soil.     The 


—  132  — 

Fo"rt'crock°eT  ^^^^  momlng  we  reached  the  Snake  River,  and  rested 
to^the  South    ^jp  ^  jjj.j.|g^    J  gj.jn  found  In  my  food  bag  a  little  rice, 

whereof  we  cooked  ourselves  a  thin  soup.  The  other 
empty  spaces  in  our  stomachs  we  filled  with  wild  cur- 
rants and  buUberries  that  grew  along  the  shores.  The 
latter,  also  called  rabbit  berries,  are  the  fruit  of  the 
Shephardia  argentea,  a  large  bush,  whose  leaves  are 
shiny  white  on  the  under  side.  The  red  berries  in  ap- 
pearance and  taste  resemble  currants,  but  were  still 
quite  unripe.  Nevertheless  they  tasted  famously.  In 
the  afternoon  we  got  sight  of  some  antelope,  but  they 
did  not  come  within  range.  Our  leader  and  Swiss 
usually  rode  on  either  side  to  hunt,  while  we  marched 
slowly  forward.  As  we  reached  towards  evening  a 
creek,  where  we  intended  to  camp,  we  suddenly  heard 
the  growl  of  a  grizzly  bear  quite  close  by.  My  com- 
panions had  no  ambition  to  meddle  with  it;  but  I 
could  not  resist  the  temptation,  and  made  toward  the 
place  whence  the  sound  came.  All  around  was  high 
grass  and  thick  bush,  so  that  I  could  not  see  the  bear. 
Of  a  sudden  the  beast  started  up  only  a  few  feet  in 
front  of  me.  I  quickly  raised  my  gun;  the  bear 
stopped  short,  and  instantly  disappeared  in  the  tall 
grass.  All  this  was  the  matter  of  a  few  seconds.  I 
followed  the  track  through  the  brush  as  far  as  my 
horse  could  press  through,  and  tried  to  persuade  my 
companions  to  beat  the  bush  together  on  foot;  but 
they  showed  no  disposition  that  way.  Meanwhile, 
the  bear  escaped  across  the  river.  When  our  leader 
rejoined  us,  we  finally  went  into  the  thicket,  but  found 


—  133  — 


only  the  tracks  of  a  she-grizzly  and  two  cubs  without  Fo"t"cr^ock'eT 
seeing  the  animals  themselves.     So,  instead  of  roast 


to  the  South 
Fork 


bear  we  had  to  content  ourselves  this  evening  again 
with  bullberries. 

On  the  next  day  we  did  not  find  even  berries.  On 
the  fifth  day  we  started  off  with  empty  stomachs,  but 
in  good  spirits.  A  thick  mist  covered  the  country, 
so  that  one  could  see  only  a  few  feet  ahead.  Our 
leader,  who  was  riding  ahead,  suddenly  sprang  from 
his  horse,  and  only  then  did  we  see  a  great  black  lump 
that  was  moving  before  us.  It  was  three  portly  bears 
that  saw  us  at  the  same  moment,  and  ran  away.  We 
immediately  chased  after  them  in  different  directions, 
but  the  fog  prevented  us  from  following  their  tracks. 
The  fog  lifted  soon  after.  Before  us  was  a  little 
stream  with  many  cottonwood  trees,  called  the  big 
timber.  There  we  hoped  to  find  game.  So  Richard- 
son and  Swiss  took  the  direct  road  toward  it,  while 
the  rest  of  us  went  toward  a  point  where  we  were  to 
meet  at  noon.  We  came  across  some  antelope,  but 
they  seemed  to  know  of  our  ravenous  hunger  and  to 
make  sport  of  us.  We  kept  pretty  close  to  the  river 
and  had  covered  about  ten  miles,  when  suddenly  one 
of  us,  who  had  lagged  somewhat  behind,  galloped  up 
in  hot  haste,  and  shouted  to  us  to  make  for  the  tim- 
ber as  fast  as  we  could.  Although  we  ourselves  could 
discover  nothing,  we  could  only  take  the  call  to  mean 
that  enemies  were  at  hand.  Without  much  question- 
ing, we  rushed  for  the  timber,  only  a  few  hundred 
steps  off,  and  looked  for  a  position  suitable  for  de- 


—  134  — 

Fort'c^ocifeT  fense.  Our  informant  assured  us  now  that  he  had 
to^the  South  gggj^  ^  whole  band  of  mounted  Indians,  one  or  two 
miles  off,  coming  toward  us  in  full  career.  We  sur- 
mised that  they  were  Blackfeet  and  prepared  for  a 
serious  encounter.  Our  animals  we  tied  to  trees  close 
by.  For  ourselves  we  looked  to  our  weapons,  firmly 
resolved  that  we  would  at  least  sell  our  scalps  dearly. 
All  this  took  but  a  few  minutes.  Then  there  was  an 
expectant  pause.  Nothing  stirred  as  yet.  One  of 
us  crept  the  while  to  the  edge  of  the  timber  to  recon- 
noiter.  "There  they  come,"  he  suddenly  cried, 
"Come  here  quick!"  We  hurried  to  him,  and  saw 
with  astonishment  a  whole  troop — not  of  Blackfeet, 
to  be  sure,  but — of  elk  rushing  toward  us.  They  had 
not  yet  seen  us,  because  we  were  hid  behind  bushes; 
but  they  scented  us,  and,  with  their  customary  curios- 
ity, ran  up  to  us.  All  at  once  our  rifles  cracked.  Sev- 
eral tumbled,  and  one  lay  dead  in  its  tracks.  With 
exultation  we  fell  upon  the  coveted  victim.  It  was  a 
fat  elk  cow.  To  live  in  plenty  after  several  days  of 
fasting,  to  be  sure  is  pleasanter  than  being  scalped  by 
Blackfeet;  still  our  informant  had  to  bear  many  a  joke 
on  account  of  his  defective  vision.  Such  mistakes, 
however,  are  not  uncommon  in  mountain  life.  At  a 
distance  an  elk,  especially  if  he  throws  back  his  head, 
looks  very  much  like  a  horseman.  Meanwhile  our 
two  hunters  joined  us,  and  helped  us  carve. 

Quite  systematically  we  now  began  to  arrange  our 
bill  of  fare.  First  soup  appeared  on  the  table,  then 
cooked  meat,  then  various   roasts,   and  finally  sau- 


—  135  — 

sages  stuffed  with  liver,  and  marrow  bones.  Pauses  Foniroc^^ 
were  made  between  the  courses.  Our  appetite  was  foJu' 
all  that  could  be  desired.  Whoever  had  seen  us  in 
civilized  life  give  such  substantial  demonstrations  of 
appetite  as  we  did,  would  have  set  us  down  for  a  band 
of  hungry  wolves  or  gluttons.  But  here  the  whole 
thing  seemed  quite  natural. 

After  we  had  feasted  and  rested  for  about  four 
hours,  we  moved  on  again,  to  promote  digestion,  and 
covered  about  eight  miles,  going  along  the  river. 
"Indians!"  suddenly  exclaimed  our  leader.  We  lis- 
tened, and  heard  to  one  side  Indian  speech.  We  ap- 
proached carefully,  and  found  a  little  party,  consist- 
ing of  Captain  Walker,  whom  we  had  met  at  the 
rendezvous,  and  some  trappers  and  Indians,  who  had 
come  here  some  days  ago  to  get  dried  meat.  Captain 
Walker  is  an  original  among  mountain  loafers.  He 
has  roamed  through  the  mountains,  chiefly  on  his  own 
hook,  in  all  directions,  and  has  made  a  side  trip  to 
California.  He  has  taken  such  a  fancy  to  this  life 
that  it  is  unlikely  that  he  ever  returns  to  civilization. 
We  found  him  with  pipe  in  mouth,  and  clad  with 
nothing  but  a  blanket,  for  which  he  excused  himself 
to  us,  because  his  shirt  was  in  the  wash.  He  had  suf- 
ficient fresh  buffalo  meat,  and  invited  us  to  the  rib  of 
a  fat  cow.  We  heard,  too,  that  great  numbers  of  buf- 
falo herds  were  before  us,  and  that  we  would  suffer 
no  further  want.  The  next  morning  we  left  the  Cap- 
tain's party  and  went  over  hilly  prairie  to  Savory's 
Fork,  a  branch  of  the  Little  Snake  River.     On  the 


—  136  — 

Fo"rt'crock°eT   ^^Y  ^c  SEW  many  single  buffalo,  and  small  herds; 

to^the  South  ^^^  Swiss,  who  is  unrivaled  in  running  down  buffalo, 
killed  a  cow  for  us.  The  buffalo  herds  now  became 
more  and  more  frequent,  and  almost  every  day  we 
shot  a  fat  cow,  of  which  we  took  only  the  best  pieces. 
On  the  evening  of  August  25th  we  reached  again 
the  left  shore  of  the  North  Fork  of  the  Platte,  at  a 
point  we  had  not  touched  on  our  journey  up,  and  in 
bee  line  perhaps  one  hundred  miles  distant  from  Fort 
Laramie.  The  river  here  was  broad,  but  shallow, 
and  we  crossed  it  with  ease.  But  we  left  it  imme- 
diately, to  go  in  southeastern  direction  to  the  South 
Fork.  We  reached  it  in  about  eight  days.  On  the 
first  we  crossed  with  moderate  ascensions  the  moun- 
tains belonging  to  the  North  Platte;  on  the  fifth  day, 
a  second  chain,  the  watershed  between  the  North 
Fork  and  South  Fork,  over  which  there  is  also  a  con- 
venient pass.  The  geological  formations  were  again 
sand  and  lime  stone.  Chiefly  pine  grew  on  the  moun- 
tains. On  the  seventh  day  we  reached  Powder  Cache 
Creek,  a  stream  flowing  into  the  South  Fork;  and  on 
the  ninth  day  the  South  Fork  itself.  The  country 
between  the  North  Fork  and  the  South  Fork  is  mainly 
a  broad  plateau  with  sandy  soil,  sparse  grass,  and  a 
few  birch  groves  like  oases  in  the  midst  of  the  prairie. 
Buffalo  abounded,  and  we  lived  in  plenty,  for  almost 
daily  we  shot  a  cow.  We  also  encountered  several 
bears.  Once,  when  we  had  pitched  our  evening  camp 
near  a  little  grove,  a  great  grizzly  bear  approached 
unobserved  within  twenty  feet  of  our  camp.     At  the 


—  137  — 

first  alarm,  before  we  had  a  chance  to  shoot,  he  was  FoVt'c^ock'eT 
back  In  the  woods,  and  it  was  too  dark  to  follow  him  Fork'^°"^'' 
there.  Another  time,  just  as  we  were  cresting  a  hill, 
we  saw  three  grizzlies — a  she  bear  and  her  two  cubs 
— cozily  at  play,  Richardson  and  Swiss,  who  were 
ahead,  immediately  wounded  two  of  them  without 
killing  them,  and  followed  them  on  horseback.  My 
horse  had  been  so  lame  for  some  days  past  that  I 
could  take  no  part  in  the  hunt.  Our  hunters  raced 
after  the  bears,  and  were  soon  out  of  sight.  The  rest 
of  us  went  slowly  forward.  After  a  time  Richard- 
son came  back  with  the  skin  of  one  of  the  bears,  but 
Swiss  stayed  out  all  night.  Only  during  the  next 
morning  did  he  rejoin  us,  and  told  us  how  first  he  had 
chased  the  bear,  and  then  the  bear  him.  His  solitary 
pistol  missed  fire,  and  only  by  repeated  snapping  of 
the  flint  lock  could  he  keep  the  enraged  beast  at  bay, 
until  he  could  get  time  to  pour  fresh  powder  on  the 
pan  and  lay  his  pursuer  low. 

On  September  3rd  we  came  quite  unexpectedly  to 
the  left  bank  of  the  South  Fork  and  crossed  the  river. 
On  the  right  bank  there  are  here  three  forts,  only 
some  miles  apart.  Penn's  [Bent's]  and  St.  Vrain's 
fort,  Vasquez  and  Sublett's  and  Lobdon's  fort.  The 
construction  is  the  customary  one ;  the  outer  walls  are 
of  half-baked  brick.  There  Is  much  rivalry  and  en- 
mity between  the  three  forts.  In  the  first  fort  we 
found  part  of  the  scattered  Columbia  party  from  Pe- 
oria. In  the  second  I  met  the  well-known  FItzpatrIck, 
who  has  passed  through  many  an  adventure  during  his 


-138- 

F^rt'crock'eT  ^'^^  ^"  ^^^  mouiitains.  He  has  a  spare,  bony  figure,  a 
^^the South  £^^g  £yjj  q£  expression,  and  white  hair;  his  whole  de- 
meanor reveals  strong  passions.  We  remained  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  forts  for  about  three  days.  In 
the  meanwhile  I  had  my  horse  shod.  For  want  of 
shoes  it  had  become  quite  lame.  Among  the  news  of 
the  day  which  we  heard  in  the  forts  we  were  most  in- 
terested in  the  account  of  a  recent  battle  between  the 
Pawnees  and  the  Sioux,  wherein  only  one  of  the  latter 
was  killed,  while  about  eighty  Pawnees  lost  their 
scalps.  The  victorious  Sioux  were  still  roving  about 
the  South  Fork,  and  were  very  much  embittered 
against  all  whites,  because  the  man  they  lost  was 
thought  to  have  been  killed  by  a  white  man  who  was 
with  the  Pawnees.  We  were  therefore  advised  to 
abandon  our  plan  of  further  following  the  South  Fork 
and  to  strike  out  for  the  Arkansas.  The  evening  be- 
fore our  departure,  several  owners  of  the  forts  ar- 
rived, bringing  a  new  cargo  of  goods  from  the  United 
States.  Goods  are  usually  transported  to  this  place 
in  great  ox  teams,  and  the  same  road  is  taken  which 
we  are  about  to  follow  to  the  boundary  of  Missouri. 


X^mÄ 


CHAPTER^     EIGHTEEN 

RETURN  TO  THE  BOUNDARY 
OF  MISSOURI 

OnN  September  yth  we  left  the  forts  on  the 
South  Fork  to  go  southeastwardly  to 
the  Arkansas.  We  went  up  the  South 
Fork  for  only  half  a  day,  Southwest- 
wardly,  beyond  the  left  bank  of  the 
Platte,  a  high  mountain  chain  arose, 
whose  more  distant  peaks  were  in  part  covered  with 
snow,  forming  a  beautiful  background  for  the  Platte 
with  its  fringe  of  cottonwood,  and  for  the  wide  plain 
that  stretched  along  its  right  bank.  On  the  fourth 
day  we  crossed  the  divide  between  the  waters  of  the 
South  Fork  and  of  the  Arkansas.  The  ground  was 
somewhat  hilly,  with  scattered  pine  groves.  In  the 
wide  prairie  stretching  from  there  toward  the  Arkan- 
sas we  saw  again  our  first  herds  of  buffalo.  We  met 
here  two  lodges  of  Arapahoes,  who  had  just  shot  a 
cow,  and  gave  us  a  hospitable  invitation.  The  squaws 
were  still  cutting  it  up.  We  smoked  the  while,  and, 
in  the  absence  of  wood,  collected  buffalo  chips  where- 


— 140  — 


Return  to 
the 

Boundary  of 
Missouri 


on  to  roast  the  ribs.  After  our  meal  we  started  off 
in  company.  The  squaws  packed  their  animals  with 
admirable  economy.  One  squaw  not  only  loaded  a 
horse  with  about  three  hundred  pounds  of  baggage, 
but  seated  herself  with  some  children  on  the  same  ani- 
mal, maintaining  the  equilibrium  with  motions  of  her 
own  body.  A  dog,  too,  had  to  carry  about  fifty 
pounds.  At  evening  we  camped  together  on  a  sandy 
creek.  The  Indians  were  also  on  their  way  to  the 
Arkansas;  but  they  traveled  too  slow  for  us,  so  we 
parted  from  them  on  the  next  morning,  and  reached 
in  two  days  the  left  bank  of  the  Arkansas.  The  Ar- 
kansas with  its  surroundings  bears  much  resemblance 
to  the  Platte.  It  arises  west  of  the  same  mountain 
chain  as  the  Platte,  and  flows  in  eastwardly  direction 
toward  the  Mississippi.  Its  shores  at  times  are  bare, 
at  times  have  a  growth  of  cotton  trees.  On  either 
side  stretches  out  a  rolling  prairie.  The  water  is 
swift,  but  shallow,  and  is  here  navigable  only  for 
small  boats.  Many  catfish  are  in  it.  We  went  down 
the  left  bank  of  the  river  about  sixty  miles  to  Penn's 
[Bent's]  Fort.  This  country  presents  little  variety. 
Along  the  shore  we  found  at  times  wild  grapes.  They 
were  larger  than  I  had  ever  seen  them  in  the  United 
States,  and  tasted  deliciously  to  us,  though  they  were 
still  quite  sour.  So  also  we  found  the  red  fruit  of  a 
species  of  cactus  with  a  sweet  mucous  taste.  The 
grass  became  constantly  drier,  only  along  the  water 
did  we  find  some  fresh  patches.  Whenever  set  afire 
the  tall  parched  grass  burned  like  tinder.     Through 


— I4I-— 
carelessness  of  one  of  the  company  the  grass  near  our  fh'e"'°'° 

r  1  1  J  U  Boundary  of 

camp  was  once  set  anre  and  we  could  save  our  baggage  Missouri 
only  with  difficulty.  Buffalo  became  more  and  more 
scarce.  On  September  15th  we  reached  Penn's  Fort. 
It  lies  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Arkansas,  close  by  the 
river,  and  is  the  finest  and  largest  fort  which  we  have 
seen  on  this  journey.  The  outer  wall  is  built  of  im- 
perfectly burnt  brick;  on  two  sides  arise  two  little 
towers  with  loop  holes.  In  the  ample  court  yard  were 
many  barn-yard  fowl.  In  addition,  they  have  cattle, 
sheep  and  goats,  and  three  buffalo  calves,  that  peace- 
fully graze  with  the  rest  of  the  herd.  At  the  time 
they  had  no  superfluity  of  horses  at  the  fort,  because 
only  a  short  time  before  a  band  of  Indians  with  incred- 
ible audacity  had  driven  away  a  hundred  head  of 
horses.  The  fort  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  Taos  in  Mexico,  and  about  three  hundred  from 
Santa  Fe.  Little  expeditions  go  frequently  to  the  for- 
mer city,  to  barter  for  flour,  bread,  beans,  sugar,  etc. 
Then,  too,  much  merchandise  is  annually  transported 
by  ox-teams  to  this  point  from  the  boundary  of  Mis- 
souri, which  is  only  six  hundred  miles  distant.  Four 
miles  above,  there  is  a  second  smaller  fort,  Peebles' 
Fort,  occupied  chiefly  by  French  and  Mexicans.  We 
bought  here  some  Spanish  flour,  which  rather 
deserved  to  be  called  bran;  but  as  our  appetite  was 
none  too  squeamish,  we  enjoyed  it  immensely.  On  the 
17th  we  started  off  again.  The  many  wagons  which 
go  each  year  from  Missouri  to  the  forts  on  the  Ar- 
kansas have  made  a  tolerably  plain  road,  generally 


—  142  — 

Return  to  following  the  river,  and  uniting  about  one  hundred 
Musourr"^  and  fifty  miles  below  with  the  Santa  Fe  trail.  This 
was  the  road  we  followed.  The  region  was  the  same 
monotonous,  hilly,  treeless,  sandy  prairie  as  before. 
On  the  second  day  we  reached  the  so-called  big  timber, 
a  spot  on  the  Arkansas,  some  miles  in  extent,  plenti- 
fully covered  with  trees.  So  much  the  scantier  is  the 
wood  lower  down.  The  Comanches,  who  play  in  the 
south  a  part  similar  to  that  of  the  Blackfeet  in  the 
north,  are  said  to  rove  freely  in  this  vicinity;  but  we 
had  the  pleasure  to  be  spared  making  their  acquaint- 
ance. On  the  fifth  day  we  again  came  across  herds 
of  buffalo.  On  the  sixth  we  reached  the  Santa  Fe 
road.  This  broad  road,  almost  a  highway,  has  been 
gradually  made  by  the  trading  expeditions  which  an- 
nually leave  Missouri's  border  with  many  ox-teams 
for  the  Mexican  city.  The  distance  from  Indepen- 
dence to  Santa  Fe  is  estimated  at  nine  hundred  miles. 
The  road  runs  southwestwardly  over  the  prairie.  It 
crosses  the  Arkansas  a  little  short  of  half  way  to  San- 
ta Fe.  The  river  at  that  point  Is  rather  shallow,  and 
the  crossing  is  said  to  be  not  very  difficult.  At  this 
ford  we  came  upon  the  Santa  Fe  road,  and  followed  it 
to  the  boundary  of  Missouri.  The  road  from  here  on 
turned  gradually  from  the  river  toward  little  streams 
that  flow  from  the  north  into  the  Arkansas.  The 
first  days  we  went  over  a  wide  plateau,  where  we 
found  countless  buffalo,  but  little  water.  On  Septem- 
ber 26th  we  reached  Pawnee  Fork;  the  next  day.  Ash 
Creek,  near  which  there  is  a  solitary  rock  in  the  prai- 


—  143-^ 

rie,  which  is  accounted  as  half  way  between  the  boun-  f^^'^^'^  *** 
dary  of  Missouri  and  Penn's  Fort,  and  on  which  some  M^^ouri^  °^ 
travelers  have  marked  their  names.  On  the  28th  we 
passed  Walnut  Creek.  An  unlucky  accident  sepa- 
rated me  here  from  my  companions.  My  horse  had 
broken  down  a  good  deal  of  late,  and  so  I  had  to 
walk  more  than  was  to  my  liking.  As  the  party  were 
late  about  starting  the  next  morning,  I  took  my  horse 
by  the  bridle  and  started  ahead,  in  the  expectation 
that  the  mounted  party  would  soon  overtake  me. 
Later  on  I  tried  to  drive  my  animals  before  me,  but 
they  often  ran  to  one  side  and  probably  in  this  way 
brought  me  on  a  wrong  road,  which  became  less 
marked  after  a  few  miles,  and  finally  totally  ran  out. 
It  was  foggy,  and  I  could  discover  nothing  of  my 
companions.  So,  in  order  not  to  lose  time  unneces- 
sarily, I  determined  to  push  on  in  an  eastern  direc- 
tion, hoping  in  this  way  to  reach  the  road  before 
long.  After  I  had  gone  some  miles  further,  I  saw  a 
great  swamp  lying  before  me.  Toward  north  and 
south  I  could  see  no  end  to  it,  but  it  seemed  tO'  extend 
only  a  few  miles  toward  the  east.  The  water  was  not 
very  deep  and  the  ground  pretty  firm.  So  I  resolved 
to  try  at  every  risk  to  get  through  in  an  eastern  di- 
rection. I  rode  my  horse  forward  at  the  slowest  pace, 
but  it  often  slid  down  on  grass  and  reeds.  My  pack 
animal  I  led  after  me  with  a  rope.  All  sorts  of 
water  birds  swarmed  around  from  all  sides.  Never 
have  I  seen  together  such  quantities  of  swans,  cranes, 
pelicans,  geese  and  ducks,  as  were  here.    The  swamp 


—  144  — 
Return  to       was  falrlv  covered  with  them,  and  they    seemed    to 

the 

Boundary  of   feel  themsclvcs  so  safe  that  I  could  have  killed  hun- 

Missouri 

dreds  of  them  with  the  shot  barrel  of  my  double- 
barreled  weapon.  Just  at  that  time,  however,  I  was 
less  interested  in  hunting  than  in  getting  out  of  the 
confounded  swamp,  for  my  horse  was  visibly  becom- 
ing exhausted,  and  I  was  making  barely  a  mile  an 
hour.  With  trouble  and  difficulty  I  finally  reached 
what  I  had  thought  from  a  distance  to  be  trees ;  but  it 
turned  out  to  be  only  tall  reeds,  and  the  second  half  of 
the  swamp  still  lay  before  me.  My  horse  now  would 
not  budge  for  either  whip  or  spur;  so  I  dismounted 
and  dragged  it  after  me  by  the  bridle.  The  water 
sometimes  reached  to  my  chest.  With  slow  and  meas- 
ured step  I  moved  onward;  my  dog  swam  usually  in 
the  rear  of  our  stately  procession.  The  sun  was  sink- 
ing when  I  finally  reached  the  other  side  of  the 
swamp.  Before  me  lay  a  little  chain  of  hills  and  on 
my  side  of  them  was  a  little  creek  with  some  timber. 
To  this  I  managed  to  drive  my  exhausted  animals. 
The  solitude  in  which  I  was  so  suddenly  placed,  would 
have  much  disquieted  me  at  the  beginning  of  the  jour- 
ney; but  now  it  had  a  certain  charm  for  me.  I  made 
a  fire  in  a  somewhat  hidden  place,  and  dried  myself 
out.  The  next  morning,  just  as  I  was  eating  break- 
fast, a  herd  of  deer  visited  me.  They  came  quite 
close  to  me  and  gazed  at  me  for  quite  a  while;  but  I 
did  not  care  to  take  a  shot  at  them,  partly  because  I 
still  had  dried  meat  on  hand,  and  partly  because  the 
neighborhood  is  at  times  frequented  by  the  Pawnees. 


145  — 


Return  to 
the 


True  to  my  resolution,  I  continued  going  on  in  an 
eastern  direction.  The  grass  in  the  prairie  was  often  M^rso^r  "^ 
as  tall  as  a  man,  and  made  walking  very  troublesome. 
Nowhere  could  a  sign  of  a  road  be  seen.  It  seemed 
as  if  no  human  being  had  ever  set  foot  in  this  coun- 
try. I  passed  several  brooks,  seemingly  insignificant, 
but  with  such  muddy  bottoms  that  my  animals  sank 
into  them,  and  I  had  to  unpack  my  mule  on  several 
occasions.  In  the  afternoon  I  reached  a  larger  creek 
with  much  timber,  probably  Cow  Creek,  and  camped 
there.  My  animals  were  too  much  fatigued,  so  I 
spent  also  the  following  day  there;  dried  my  bag- 
gage; and  made  reflections  upon  solitude.  The  next 
morning  I  started  early.  On  the  road  I  saw  the  last 
buffaloes  of  the  trip,  got  mired  a  few  times  in  little 
creeks,  and  camped  at  night  on  the  Little  Arkansas, 
a  creek  with  terribly  steep  banks.  Only  after  long 
search  did  I  find  a  place  to  water  my  animals.  The 
next  morning  I  couldn't  find  my  animals  in  the  high 
grass.  Only  on  climbing  a  tree  did  I  discover  them 
at  a  mile's  distance.  With  a  load,  it  was  impossible 
to  get  my  mule  over  the  creek;  so  I  carried  my  bag- 
gage myself  to  the  other  shore,  and  then  drove  my 
animals  over.  After  I  had  continued  some  hours 
steadily  in  an  eastern  direction  through  the  prairie, 
I  came  suddenly  and  quite  unexpectedly  upon  the 
Santa  Fe  road.  My  animals  were  no  less  pleased 
than  was  I.  I  found  traces  of  my  traveling  compan- 
ions. That  same  day  I  camped,  for  want  of  better 
water,  at  a  puddle,  inhabited  by  countless  frogs.  The 


— 146  — 

Return  to  ngxt  momlng  (it  was  the  sixth  since  I  had  been  sepa- 
M^Mourr"^  rated  from  my  party),  I  went  twenty-five  miles  on  a 
stretch  to  Cottonwood  Creek,  a  wooded  stream,  that 
arches  at  this  point  into  a  pleasant  semi-circle.  I  was 
looking  about  for  a  camping  place,  when  I  heard  a 
shot  in  a  hollow  close  by  me.  Cocking  my  rifle  I  rode 
closer,  and  found  my  traveling  companions  again, 
who  told  me  that  they  had  waited  for  me  a  day  at  the 
Little  Arkansas,  and  had  finally  concluded  that  I  had 
gone  on  ahead. 

From  here  on,  it  was  about  two  hundred  miles  to 
the  border.  United  again,  we  started  the  next  day 
(October  5)  and  covered  thirty  miles  before  reaching 
water.  My  horse  was  now  so  exhausted  that  I  could 
hardly  bring  it  into  camp.  On  the  second  day  we 
reached  Council  Grove.  That  is  the  name  of  a  dense 
grove  of  deciduous  trees,  extending  for  some  miles 
along  a  creek  of  the  same  name.  The  Santa  Fe  cara- 
vans usually  stop  here  to  elect  their  leaders  and  to 
organize :  hence  the  name.  It  is  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  the  border.  In  these  woods  deer, 
turkeys  and  squirrels  are  found.  It  rained  continuous- 
ly; so  we  stayed  there  several  days.  We  started  again 
on  October  9th.  On  the  nth  we  reached  the  Osage, 
a  stream  that  was  almost  dried  up,  with  wood  in  plen- 
ty. It  was  impossible  to  get  my  horse  to  stir  from 
here.  He  grazed  greedily,  but  from  sheer  fatigue 
would  not  move  from  the  spot.  "The  horse  has 
stopped,"  is  the  technical  expression  of  the  moun- 
taineers for  this  condition.     When  left  to  itself  the 


—  147  — 

animal  usually  recovers  after  a  while,  but  I  could  not  fjfc"'"*** 
wait  for  that.  I  had  to  abandon  this  worthy  animal  S?^8ourr " 
which  had  carried  me  some  thousands  of  miles.  Some 
weeks  before  we  had  abandoned  two  other  horses  in 
the  same  way.  However,  one  of  my  companions  lent 
me  another  horse.  The  country  gradually  became 
more  famihar  to  us.  On  October  13th  we  rested  at 
noon  at  the  same  place  as  after  our  departure  from 
Sapling  Grove.  Toward  night  we  camped  in  the  vi- 
cinity of  Sapling  Grove.  As  yet  we  had  seen  neither 
farms  nor  human  beings,  but  the  cow  bells  which  we 
heard  at  evening  near  us,  made  sweetest  music  for  us. 
The  next  morning  we  again  passed  the  farms  of  the 
Shawnees  to  our  starting  point,  Westport.  Before 
entering  the  village  we  fired  a  salute  from  all  our 
guns,  which  immediately  brought  out  our  old  ac- 
quaintances. 

We  had  passed  nearly  six  months  in  the  wilderness. 
In  that  time  we  had  covered  under  daily  hardships 
about  three  thousand  miles,  had  slept  on  the  bare 
ground  in  all  kinds  of  weather,  and  had  lived  almost 
exclusively  on  meat.  Nevertheless,  we  all  fairly  over- 
flowed with  health,  while  the  many  sallow  fever  faces 
we  here  met  sufficiently  informed  us  that  the  sum- 
mer had  been  very  sickly.  In  Westport,  we  rested 
for  a  while.  All,  even  the  commonest,  pleasures  of 
civilized  life  had  a  double  charm  for  us.  After  eight 
days  I  rode  with  three  more  of  my  traveling  com- 
panions three  hundred  miles  further,  to  St.  Louis, 
where  we  made  our  return  on  the  last  day  of  October. 


CHAPTER^     NINETEEN 

THE  INDIANS 


KA 


W  THEN  a  nation  has  perished,  it  arouses 
the  interest  of  posterity,  and  historians 
and  antiquarians  exhaust  themselves  in 
researches  as  to  the  character  of  such  a 
rade.  But  the  existence  of  a  people 
that  xs^erely  near  extinction,  however 
characteristic  its  lif^may  be,  and  however  instructive 
its  history  as  bearingVn  the  study  of  the  development 
of  the  human  race,  do\s  not  seem  to  call  forth  similar 
interest.  This  may  b\  one  of  the  reasons  why  we 
have  not  as  yet,  so  farVis  I  know,  any  adequate  his- 
tory of  this  race  of  ma\  once  spread  so  far,  which 
had  the  whole  continent  Af  America  In  its  possession, 
until  the  advancing  Caucasian  race  crowded  them 
back.  I  do  not  deny  the  aifficulties  besetting  such  an 
undertaking,  on  account  oL  our  want  of  knowledge 
of  many  Indian  languages,  nieir  own  ignorance  con- 
cerning their  origin  and  history,  the  continuing  hos- 
tility of  many  tribes  toward  all  whites,  and  the  hard- 
ships involved  In  traveling  and  living  among  them; 


—  149  — 

but  it  is  certainly  true  that  on  more  thorough  study  TheindUn« 
of  this  people  a  more  satisfactory  history  could  be 
written  now  than  in,  say,  a  hundred  years,  when  mere 
shadows  of  this  perished  race  will  be  moving  among 
us.  The  United  States  owe  it  to  themselves  and  to 
this  expelled  race,  to  collect  as  soon  as  may  be  all  that 
is  worthy  of  preservation  as  to  this  people,  and  trans- 
mit it  as  a  moment o  mori  to  posterity. 

The  Indians  differ  in  so  many  bodily  qualities  from 
the  rest  of  human  kind,  that  they  have  been  assigned 
a  place  among  the  five  human  races  into  which  nat- 
uralists have  divided  the  mammalian  family,  man. 
Here  is  not  the  place  to  consider  whether  these  five 
races  are  aboriginal,  or  whether  we  are  descended 
from  a  common  stock,  from  which  the  five  races  were 
gradually  developed.  As  little  can  I  decide  whether, 
in  the  former  case,  the  Indians  are  to  be  considered 
really  aboriginal,  or  descendents  of  the  Mongolian 
race,  emigrating  from  Northern  Asia  to  America. 
Passing  this  by,  the  characteristic  differences,  on  ac- 
count of  which  they  are  designated  as  a  separate  race, 
the  American,  are  as  follows :  The  skin  of  the  In- 
dian is  brown-red,  generally  tan  color,  cinnamon 
brown,  or  dark  copper  red,  but  sometimes  bronze 
colored.  His  hair  black,  straight  and  coarse.  The 
face  is  broad,  but  not  flattened.  The  features  are 
strongly  marked.  The  eyes  are  deep-seated  and  rath- 
er horizontal.  The  forehead  Is  not  high,  but  com- 
pressed from  the  sides.  The  facial  angle  is  about 
eighty  degrees.    The  nose  is  rather  broad  and  promi- 


—  150  — 

The  Indians  ncnt,  usually  straight,  but  sometimes  with  the  Roman 
bend.  The  cheek  bones  are  very  high  and  prominent, 
the  chin  almost  square.  The  beard  is  thin,  the  chief 
reason  for  which  may  be  their  habit  of  plucking  it 
out  early. 

There  has  been  much  fabulous  talk  about  the  In- 
dian character.  Some  pose  them  as  Roman  heroes 
and  unspoiled  sons  of  Nature;  others  as  cowards 
and  the  scum  of  humanity.  The  truth  is  between 
these  extremes.  First  of  all,  we  must  differentiate 
between  the  Indians  with  some  of  the  varnish  of  civi- 
lization and  the  cruder  but  freer  tribes  of  the  Far 
West.  The  former  have  no  longer  a  marked  char- 
acter. The  pursuit  of  agriculture,  forced  on  them 
by  necessity,  has  eradicated  the  virile  traits  of  their 
old  hunter's  life,  without  inoculating  them  with  the 
mild  poison  of  civilization.  To  get  a  correct  con- 
ception of  the  character  of  the  freer  North  American 
Indian  tribes,  let  us  consider  somewhat  more  closely 
the  mode  of  life  and  customs  common  to  them  all. 

The  Indians  inhabiting  the  western  territories  of 
the  United  States  are  split  into  numerous  separate 
tribes,  that  consider  themselves  entirely  independent 
of  each  other.  They  all  live  by  hunting,  especially 
buffalo  hunting;  and  each  tribe  claims  a  wide  terri- 
tory with  very  vague  boundaries  as  its  own.  In  ad- 
dition they  recognize  certain  districts,  where  buffalo 
usually  abound,  as  common  hunting  and  war  ground, 
where  various  tribes  roam  at  will,  subjecting  their 
conflicting  rights  to  the  test  of  strength.     Between 


—151— 

the  tribes  there  Is  perpetual  warfare.  Each  tribe  Theindiane 
must  have  an  hereditary  enemy,  whose  wrong  must 
be  avenged  in  blood.  Their  warfare  is  rarely  carried 
on  by  open  attack  or  battle ;  but  they  stalk  each  other 
till  one  party  succeeds  in  surprising  and  massacring 
the  other.  When  attacking,  they  raise  a  fearsome 
shrilling  cry,  the  so-called  war  whoop.  The  slain  are 
scalped,  that  is,  the  scalp  is  circularly  incised  in  the 
hairy  part  of  the  head  and  torn  from  the  skull.  The 
scalp  of  an  enemy  Is  the  highest  triumph  of  the  In- 
dian. The  more  scalps  an  Indian  can  show,  the  high- 
er does  he  stand  in  the  esteem  of  his  tribe.  Some- 
times, when  the  animosity  is  not  very  fierce,  they  sim- 
ply make  prisoners  of  their  enemies,  and  treat  them 
then  as  slaves.  Such  is  usually  the  fate  of  women. 
TTie  chief  weapon  of  the  Indian  Is  the  bow  and  arrow. 
Through  trade  with  the  whites  many  of  them  have 
now  obtained  fire  arms,  the  use  of  which  they  have 
well  learned.  However,  all  trading  companies  sell 
them  only  short,  poorly-made  carbines,  and  no  rifles. 
Another  weapon,  peculiar  to  the  Indian,  is  the  toma- 
hawk, a  small  hatchet  which  they  use  In  close  fight, 
and  likewise  purchase  at  the  forts.  In  former  times 
they  made  them  themselves  of  pointed  stones.  Often 
the  tomahawk  is  made  so  as  to  serve  also  as  a  pipe 
for  smoking.  But  commonly  they  use  for  this  pur- 
pose special  long  pipes,  which  they  esteem  as  great 
articles  of  luxury,  and  from  which  the  owners  will 
part  at  no  price.  The  bowl  of  such  pipes  Is  made  of 
a  red  clay  which  is  found  on  the  Upper  Missouri,  and 


—152— 

The  Indians  ^yhlch  foims  an  article  of  commerce  between  eastern 
and  western  tribes.  Smoking  Is  a  conventional  cere- 
monial of  salutation.  He  who  has  been  admitted  to 
smoke  the  so-called  pipe  of  peace  Is  In  no  danger. 
Ordinarily  the  Indians  smoke  only  chewing  tobacco 
mixed  with  various  herbs;  but  If  no  tobacco  is  to  be 
had,  they  smoke  sumach  and  other  stupifying  herbs. 
Every  Indian  tribe  has  a  chief,  which  honor  is  herl- 
dltary  in  his  family;  but  for  a  warlike  expedition  they 
often  choose  special  leaders.  In  all  important  mat- 
ters the  chief  must  consult  with  the  warriors  of  the 
tribe;  but  otherwise  can  act  quite  arbitrarily,  espe- 
cially if  distinguished  for  bravery.  The  religious 
ceremonials  are  in  every  tribe  under  the  guidance  of  a 
so-called  medicine  man,  who  knows  how  to  impose 
on  the  people  through  all  kinds  of  hocus-pocus.  The 
religious  Ideas  of  the  Indians  are  still  quite  crude. 
Like  all  people  in  an  Immature  state,  they  believe  hi 
a  good  and  bad  principle,  and  continued  existence 
after  death,  In  which  the  brave  have  unalloyed  enjoy- 
ment of  all  the  good  things  of  this  life.  Various  wild 
dances  and  songs  are  an  important  element  In  their 
religious  ceremonies. 

Every  Indian  tribe  has  Its  own  speech.  All  these 
languages  seem  derived  from  a  common  origin;  but 
owing  to  the  segregation  of  the  tribes  and  the  want  of 
any  writing,  resemblances  may  often  be  well  nigh  ob- 
literated. The  Indian's  style  of  speech  is  a  mixture 
of  laconic  brevity  and  picturesque  imagery.     Their 


—153— 

comparisons  are  taken  from  surrounding  nature,  and  The  Indiana 
are  generally  very  appropriate. 

Concerning  the  daily  life  of  the  Indians  we  have 
often  had  occasion  to  make  remarks  in  prior  sketches. 
Most  tribes  live  only  in  tents  and  lead  a  wandering 
hunter's  existence.  One  family  usually  lives  in  every 
tent.  Polygamy  is  sanctioned  in  all  tribes,  but  only 
the  wealthier  can  put  it  in  practice.  The  squaws  as 
a  rule  are  anything  but  handsome,  but  their  unclean- 
liness  may  serve  to  hide  their  charms.  The  squaws 
are  treated  not  much  better  than  slaves.  There  is  no 
appeal  from  the  will  of  the  lord  and  master.  War 
and  the  hunt  are  the  only  occupations  for  a  man; 
everything  else  is  for  the  squaws.  The  squaw  must 
attend  to  the  horses,  set  up  the  tent  and  take  it  down, 
must  care  for  the  baggage,  must  cut  up  the  game, 
attend  to  the  kitchen,  tan  leather,  make  clothes  and 
moccasins,  etc.  In  spite  of  these  multifarious  de- 
mands on  their  activity,  they  are  generally  indefatig- 
able and  good-natured  and  bear  the  ill-temper  of  their 
masters,  oft  manifesting  itself  by  blows,  with  Indian 
fortitude.  Children  are  soon  left  to  themselves.  I 
have  never  seen  that  they  were  beaten.  They  usually 
learn  riding  before  walking;  but  in  the  latter,  too, 
they  develop  great  speed  and  endurance.  Although 
their  muscles  do  not  appear  especially  prominent,  they 
seem  to  have  a  degree  of  toughness  which  qualifies 
them  for  extraordinary  exertions.  The  women  are 
no  less  hardened  than  the  men,  but  with  them  the  full 
development  of  the  body  is  hampered  by  too  early 


—154— 

The  Indians  marriage,  often  at  the  age  of  ten  and  eleven.  These 
hardy  children  of  nature  suffer  little  from  sickness, 
though  contagious  diseases,  like  the  small-pox,  at 
times  destroy  great  numbers  of  them.  Their  medi- 
cines consist  simply  in  herbs.  They  also  have  great 
confidence  in  steam  baths,  which  they  take  in  so-called 
sweat  lodges,  in  which  water  is  poured  on  hot  stones. 

The  wealth  of  an  Indian  consists  chiefly  in  horses. 
Their  horses  come  from  Mexico,  and  are  of  as  hardy 
stock  as  the  Indians  themselves.  Whoever  owns  no 
horses  tries  to  steal  some.  All  stealing  is  permis- 
sible among  the  Indians,  but  horse-stealing  is  honor- 
able. Such  bands  of  horse  thieves  will  often  follow 
another  tribe  or  a  caravan  of  whites  for  weeks  and 
months,  till  they  find  an  opportunity  to  drive  off  the 
whole  herd.  In  addition  to  horses  every  Indian  us- 
ually owns  a  great  number  of  dogs,  useful  partly  to 
carry  loads,  partly,  in  absence  of  other  meat,  for  food. 
In  their  form  and  character  they  are  closely  related 
to  the  wolf,  from  whom  they  are  probably  derived. 

The  clothing  of  the  Indians  usually  consists  of 
leathern  leggings  and  a  blanket  or  buffalo  robe,  to 
which  is  added  in  the  case  of  the  women,  a  garment, 
also  of  leather,  reaching  from  the  breast  to  the  knee. 
Their  light  leather  shoes,  the  so-called  moccasins,  the 
squaws  make  with  great  skill,  using  no  other  tool  than 
the  awl  and  the  thread  obtained  from  the  sinews  of 
the  buffalo.  Both  sexes  have  the  head  uncovered. 
Vanity  and  love  of  finery  is  more  deep-seated  with 
these  children  of  nature — if  indeed  such  a  thing  is 


—155— 

possible — than  with  the  children  of  civilization.  But  The  Indian» 
one  can  note  a  vast  range  from  the  savage  often 
wholly  naked,  to  the  complete  Indian  dandy,  who, 
with  his  face  painted  with  cinnabar,  his  hair  decked 
with  feathers,  and  his  body  adorned  with  beads  and 
brass  wire,  will  gaze  for  hours  in  a  broken  bit  of  mir- 
ror, admiring  the  masterpiece  of  all  creation. 

What,  then,  are  the  special  characteristics  of  the 
Indians?  Physically  they  consist,  in  addition  to  the 
racial  marks  above  given,  of  admirable  strength,  skill 
and  endurance,  together  with  keenness  of  senses  in 
highest  development.  An  Indian  sees  his  enemy  be- 
fore the  white  man  discovers  him  with  his  spy  glass. 
His  ear  upon  the  ground,  he  interprets  suspicious 
sounds  at  great  distances.  His  keen  sense  of  smell 
scents  smoke  and  traces  of  the  enemy,  before  the 
white  man  has  any  suspicion  thereof.  Among  the 
characteristics  of  the  man  within  this  body  we  are 
first  struck  by  the  pride  with  which  he  looks  down 
upon  his  surroundings,  especially  upon  the  pale  face. 
"The  proudest  thing  in  the  world  is  an  Indian,"  an 
old  mountaineer  once  said  to  me;  and  whoever  has 
seen  a  free  Indian  going  through  the  streets  of  a  pop- 
ulous city,  which  he  is  perhaps  seeing  for  the  first 
time,  with  firm,  self-reliant  step  and  military  bearing, 
gazing  straight  ahead  and  seemingly  indifferent  to 
all  around  him,  will  admit  that  the  opinion  just 
quoted  is  not  without  foundation.  This  pride  seems 
to  me  nothing  more  than  a  consciousness  of  his  self- 
reliant  independence.    The  Indian,  born  and  nurtured 


—156— 

The  Indians  jj^  (-j^g  broad  prairie  or  in  the  mountains,  familiar 
from  childhood  with  the  dangers  of  the  wild  life  of 
the  hunter  and  warrior,  choosing  his  country  wher- 
ever he  can  maintain  himself  by  force  of  arms,  and 
his  shelter  where  the  sky  arches  over  him,  must  nat- 
urally have  a  sense  of  self-reliance  vastly  differing 
from  that  of  the  effeminate  civilized  being,  born,  nur- 
tured and  buried  amid  a  thousand  conditions  of  de- 
pendence. The  Indian  feels  himself  free,  his  wants 
are  few,  his  resources  lie  within  himself.  This  con- 
sciousness fills  him  with  such  pride  and  with  such  con- 
tempt for  all  civilization.  But  his  indifference  is  often 
seeming  rather  than  real,  and  is  based  on  a  marked 
Indian  characteristic,  self-control.  The  passions  of 
the  Indian  are  as  stormy,  as  eager  to  blaze  out  as  they 
can  be  with  any  human  being,  but  by  extraordinary 
self-control  he  maintains  all  the  outward  appearance 
of  calmness.  An  Indian  will  often  endure,  without 
the  slightest  manifestation  of  pain,  the  most  tortur- 
ing modes  of  death,  simply  to  defy  his  enemy.  The 
Indian  who  seeks  to  conceal  his  feelings  or  his  plans 
will  not  let  his  left  hand  know  what  his  right  hand 
does;  neither  kindness  nor  threats  can  cause  him  to 
break  silence.  On  the  other  hand,  this  self-control 
often  serves  as  a  cloak  for  guile  and  treachery.  But 
it  must  be  confessed  that  many  acts  of  treachery  to- 
ward Indians  can  be  charged  against  the  whites;  so 
much  so  as  to  often  seem  to  afford  justification  for 
the  cruelties  of  the  former.  Acquaintance  with  the 
whites  seems  also  to  have  diminished  the  high  esteem 


—157— 

in  which  hospitality  was  held  among  them.  Still  even  The  Indians 
now  it  is  custom  in  most  tribes  that  if  even  an  here- 
ditary enemy  seeks  refuge  in  the  tent  of  the  chief, 
not  a  hair  of  his  head  is  hurt;  though,  to  be  sure,  if 
he  is  found  next  day  in  the  prairie  or  on  the  moun- 
tain his  scalp  is  infallibly  lost.  The  question  has 
often  been  asked  whether  the  Indian  has  real  courage 
or  is  cowardly  by  nature.  Whoever  knows  the  In- 
dian's mode  of  life  must  concede  if  courage  is  by  any 
means  capable  of  development  in  a  human  being,  such 
a  life  is  calculated  to  inspire  a  man  with  fearlessness 
and  contempt  of  death.  That  the  Indians  usually 
succumb  to  the  weapons  of  civilization,  and  the  fact 
that  a  few  determined  whites  repel  their  attacks  even 
in  greatly  superior  numbers,  is  not  proof  against  their 
courage,  often  verging  on  fool-hardiness.  Their  sys- 
tem of  waging  war,  moreover,  often  causes  us  to  re- 
gard that  as  cowardice  which  is  really  plan  and  cal- 
culation. They  consider  it,  for  instance,  folly  to  ad- 
vance toward  the  enemy  in  open  battle  array;  and 
Black  Hawk,  the  renowned  chief  of  the  Sacs  and 
Foxes,  when  present  at  a  great  maneuver  in  New 
York,  during  which  several  batteries  were  stormed, 
could  not  wonder  enough  at  the  idiocy  of  sacrificing 
hundreds  of  warriors  in  this  way,  since  the  batteries 
might  be  taken  at  night  by  surprise  without  loss  of  a 
man. 

The  Indian  tribes  which  now  rove  through  the 
great  Missouri  territory  are  chiefly  the  Kansas,  the 
Sioux,  and  the  Pawnees.     In  and  about    the    Rocky 


—158- 

The  Indians  Mouiitains  and  beyond  them,  In  Oregon,  live  the 
Crows,  the  Blackfeet,  the  Eutaws,  the  Snakes,  the 
Nez  Perces,  the  Flatheads,  the  Pannacks,  etc.  Of 
these  tribes  some  are  friendly  to  the  whites;  with 
others  the  friendship  Is  dubious;  while  still  others  are. 
at  open  enmity  with  them.  The  last  Is  especially  true 
of  the  Blackfeet,  the  terror  of  trappers  and  travelers. 
The  Blackfeet  rove  about  the  headwaters  of  the  Mis- 
souri on  either  side  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  are 
the  sworn  foes  not  only  of  the  whites,  but  also  of  all 
other  Indians.  They  consider  themselves  the  lords 
of  creation,  and  wage  war  with  all  who  will  not  sub- 
mit to  them.  Their  boldness  and  audacity  causes  them 
to  be  feared  far  and  near.  Most  of  the  whites  who 
perish  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  are  brained  by  their 
tomahawks.  Small  parties  of  trappers  are  pursued 
by  them  relentlessly;  but  they  also  often  attack  larger 
groups,  and  engage  them  in  skirmishes.  When  on 
their  expeditions  they  unexpectedly  encounter  a  party 
they  either  attack  or  take  to  flight,  for  all  whom  they 
meet  are  sure  to  be  enemies.  Through  this  unrelent- 
ing hate  toward  all  who  are  not  of  their  tribe,  which 
they  put  in  practice  to  its  utmost  consequences,  the 
Blackfeet  have  become  a  word  of  terror  among  the 
mountaineers;  not  unlike  that  which  the  grizzly  bear 
in  the  animal  kingdom  has  won  for  himself.  How- 
ever, through  ceaseless  warfare,  and  still  more 
through  disease,  especially  small-pox,  which  ran  Its 
course  among  them  some  years  ago,  the  tribe  has  been 
much  reduced,  and  has  become  less  formidable. 


—159— 

The  ultimate  destiny  of  these  wild  tribes,  now  The  Indians 
hunting  unrestrained  through  the  Far  West  of  the 
United  States,  can  be  foretold  almost  to  a  certainty, 
from  the  fate,  already  accomplished,  of  the  eastern 
Indian  tribes,  where  in  the  contact  of  races,  true  civi- 
lization collides  with  crude  forces  of  nature,  the  lat- 
ter must  succumb.  Civilization,  steadily  pressing  for- 
ward toward  the  West,  has  driven  the  Indians  step 
by  step  before  it.  Where  war  with  the  whites  and 
with  each  other  was  not  enough  to  reduce  their  num- 
bers, the  result  was  brought  about  by  disease  and  ar- 
dent spirits.  Whole  tribes,  that  formerly  dwelt  in 
States  where  civilization  is  now  permanently  estab- 
lished, whose  names  perhaps  were  then  as  terrifying 
to  the  pioneers  of  the  West  as  is  now  the  word  Black- 
feet  to  the  mountaineer,  have  entirely  disappeared, 
leaving  scarce  a  trace  of  their  name  behind.  Some 
few  have  accommodated  themselves  to  agriculture, 
and  still  live  among  us,  the  shadows  of  a  vanished 
race.  The  western  tribes  still  have,  as  yet,  a  bulwark 
against  the  advance  of  civilization  in  the  boundless, 
generally  sandy  prairie,  which  extends  for  about  a 
thousand  miles  from  the  boundary  of  the  State  of 
Missouri  to  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  In 
those  mountains  themselves,  and  in  the  broad  sandy 
plains  beyond  them.  But  those  obstacles  are  not  in- 
surmountable. At  least  half  of  the  great  prairie  is 
capable  of  cultivation ;  and  the  want  of  wood,  attrib- 
utable less  to  the  nature  of  the  soil  than  to  the  fre- 
quent prairie  fires  and  to  the  quantities  of  game,  espe- 


— i6o — 

The  Indians  cially  the  hcrds  of  buffalo,  will  be  less  sensibly  felt 
with  the  gradual  progress  of  civilization.  Illinois  in 
former  days  had  many  treeless  tracts  that  became 
wooded  by  natural  means  as  the  soil  was  cultivated. 
But  the  greatest  danger  threatens  the  Indians  from 
the  West;  from  the  settlements  on  the  Columbia. 
Along  the  Columbia  River  various  Indian  tribes  have 
already  perished;  the  rest  live  in  entire  dependence 
on  the  whites. 

So  the  waves  of  civilization  will  draw  nearer  and 
nearer  from  the  East  and  from  the  West,  till  they 
cover  the  sandy  plains,  and  cast  their  spray  on  the 
feet  of  the  Rockies.  The  few  fierce  tribes  who  may 
have  maintained  themselves  until  that  time  in  the 
mountains,  may  offer  some  resistance  to  the  progress 
of  the  waves,  but  the  swelling  flood  will  rise  higher 
and  higher,  till  at  last  they  are  buried  beneath  it.  The 
buffalo  and  the  antelope  will  be  buried  with  them; 
and  the  bloody  tomahawk  will  be  buried  too.  But 
for  all  that  there  will  be  no  smoking  of  the  pipe  of 
peace;  for  the  new  generation  with  the  virtues  of 
civilization  will  bring  also  its  vices.  It  will  ransack 
the  bowels  of  the  mountains  to  bring  to  light  the  most 
precious  of  all  metals,  which,  when  brought  to  the 
light,  will  arouse  strife  and  envy  and  all  ignoble  pas- 
sions, and  the  sons  of  civilization  will  be  no  happier 
than  their  red  brethren  who  have  perished. 


POSTSCRIPT. 

In  the  foregoing  sketches  I  submit  to  the  public 
some  off-hand  observations  on  a  journey  that  was 
made  off-hand.  I  make  no  claim  to  a  scientific  treat- 
ment of  my  subject.  Neither  my  time,  nor  my  means, 
nor  my  knowledge  in  the  natural  sciences,  of  which 
I  never  made  a  specific  study,  would  permit  of  this. 
My  purpose  in  writing  these  sketches  was  solely  to 
give  the  reader  an  appreciable  picture  of  the  un- 
known west  of  the  United  States  with  the  peculari- 
ties  of  the  country  and  the  still  greater  peculiarities  of 
Its  inhabitants,  and  to  present  in  suitable  groups, 
as  it  were  through  a  panorama,  those  objects  which 
passed  one  by  one  before  my  eyes,  with  often  fatigu- 
ing slowness.  With  romantic  trimmings  the  picture 
might  perhaps  have  been  made  more  attractive  to 
some  readers,  but  I  have  preferred  to  copy  nature 
and  life  as  faithfully  as  possible,  and  to  give  due  heed 
to  the  shades  as  well  as  the  lights.  If  I  have  accom- 
plished this  purpose,  however  imperfectly,  I  shall  feel 
adequately  compensated  for  the  fatigues  and  dangers 
of  such  a  trip. 

As  an  aid  for  following  the  geography  I  have  ap- 
pended a  little  map  of  my  journey,  in  which  are  in- 
dicated the  trend  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  and  of  the 
streams  arising  in  them,  filled  in  with  more  detail  at 
the  point  where  I  crossed  the  Rockies.    As  there  are 


— 102 — 

Postscript  no  maps  of  these  parts  of  the  United  States  based  on 
accurate  measurements,  I  of  course  cannot  vouch  for 
the  geographical  correctness  of  my  plat.  Still  it  may 
serve  the  purpose  of  giving  a  better  idea  of  the  coun- 
try. By  the  way,  in  all  probability  we  shall  have  in 
a  few  years  a  geographically  correct  map  of  the  Mis- 
souri Territory  and  the  Oregon  Territory  of  the 
United  States,  since  the  Congress  of  the  United 
States  by  a  resolution  only  recently  adopted  has  au- 
thorized the  President  to  cause  a  scientific  exploration 
of  that  region,  and  to  take  measures  adequate  for  se- 
curing the  country.  It  is  reported  that  in  consequence 
of  this  resolution  three  military  forts  are  to  be  erected 
between  Missouri  and  the  foot  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  that  a  scientific  expedition,  calculated  for 
several  years'  stay,  is  to  be  sent  out  there.  Such  meas- 
ures will  soon  afford  travelers  in  these  regions  greater 
security,  will  increase  our  knowledge  of  the  country, 
and  will  thus  open  a  road  for  civilization. 

A  transformation  of  this  remarkable  country  seems 
then  at  hand.  It  is  perhaps  only  a  few  years  until 
the  plow  upturns  the  virgin  soil,  which  is  now  only 
touched  by  the  lightfooted  Indian  or  the  hoof  of  wild 
animals.  Every  decade  will  change  the  character  of 
the  country  materially,  and  in  a  hundred  years  per- 
haps the  present  narratives  of  mountain  life  may 
sound  like  fairy  tales. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This.book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


JUL  15 1957  ^ 
OCf-  2  5  t9g? 


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